Project M
by Water Mage
Summary: After waking up on an alternate Earth Harry is tested and experimented on. They tried to turn him into a weapon. But he was no ones weapon. Not anymore. Where does he fit in this new world where things and people are a bit more...ultimate. HP/Marvel xover
1. Deep Dive

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. For better of worse that belongs to JK Rowling. The Ultimates and everything within the Ultimate Marvel universe belongs to Marvel Comics. Which I don't own either. If I did I would retire at the age of twenty two.

* * *

**Project M.  
**Chapter One: _Deep Dive  
_By: Water Mage

.

It was a Saturday.

Of course something was going to happen on the day he shouldn't have been working. His life had never been a normal one. Not for Harry Potter. Trouble flocked to him since he was a baby. Considering his parents' lifestyle before their passing, it was better to say that it ran in the family. He gazed up at the sky, briefly taking in the moonless night making it the darkest of nights.

"Look alive, Potter," Hawkins barked, frowning sternly.

His wayward thoughts grinded to a halt, and he nodded at the senior Auror. He gripped his wand tighter and followed his comrades through the dense forest. Their combat robes were black, and allowed them to blend easily into the foliage. Harry followed moving just as silent and stealthily as the rest of the squad.

It was too bad that his first time visiting the United States had to be under the current circumstances. He glanced at the green robed wizards flanking their sides. Got to give credit where credit's due. The American's had tracked down the fugitives with timely efficiency. He didn't know how their American counterparts, "We're _Hunters, _got it memorized_",_ would do in a fight, but it's not like the Aurors could go in alone. On American soil the Hunters had jurisdiction although the actual arrest would go to the Aurors, since the fugitives were first and foremost British citizens.

Jameson, the Hunter captain, held up a closed fist and they all immediately halted. They moved near the white haired man, staying in the shadows to keep concealed. Jameson and Hawkins stood side by side, surveying the group. Harry stood shoulder to shoulder next to a surprisingly young faced Hunter. He had to be a rookie. There was just something about him. Too fresh, his stance, the way he even swallowed. Harry couldn't be too much older than him, but he had lost that _something_ that marked him as a rookie, even before he had completed the training program two years ago.

"The cave the warlocks are holed up in is less than a klick from our position," said Jameson. His voice was quiet but intense, impossible not to take dead serious. "Hawkins and I will take point, and the rest of you lot will follow our lead. Abrahms and Marks will watch our six. Understood?" He looked around at the faces staring back at him.

Hawkins met Jameson's eyes nodded, and then addressed the squad. "Alright, then. Move out."

They marched behind the Hunter and Auror commanders, as they led the dark wizard catchers toward a cave. Darkness swallowed them as they entered the cave's mouth. Wands were lit wordlessly, and their dim glow provided enough illumination to see. He expected a few bats, maybe some rats and bears. The dry and dipping ceiling was a surprise, as they ducked down low to pass through, and then just as quickly were again walking upright.

"It's a Cherokee cave," muttered the "rookie" from earlier, noticing Harry's expression. "It's a dead cave. Dry, no growing formations. Usually—"

"Hendricks!" snapped Jameson, turning back to glare at the young man. "This isn't a family vacation at Yosemite. Shut your trap."

Hendricks mouth closed quickly with an audible smack. Harry offered a sympathetic smile. No doubt the kid wouldn't be making the same mistake again after the dressing down. Hawkins and Jameson both signaled to halt, and they listened intently as a droning chant reached their ears, echoing loudly off the cave walls.

He watched those in lead closely. They signaled that there were a dozen men in the cavern ahead. Twelve against their own twelve. Sounded like a fair number, but these warlocks used the oldest of dark magics. Their dark magic could be described as the predecessor of the forbidden magic of today. This was stuff Voldemort made his mastery of. With their primeval power also came a price. Their souls were dammed the moment they embraced what lay in the dark behind sealed doors.

The fugitives tried to run, but they couldn't hide. The trail of blood and bodies led the Aurors over the ocean and to the states. Their standing orders were to capture and bring the warlocks back to England. Specifically warded cells at Azkaban already had their names on them, located in the deepest levels of the island prison. Weekend or not justice was going to be served.

Jameson flashed a signal and they moved as one. They stalked forward with their wands held high and ready. The cave opened into a huge cavern housing a dozen robed figures. The warlocks stood in a circle, hoods drawn, and hands outstretched as they chanted over a ring of glowing symbols painted on the floor. Paint that looked suspiciously like blood. He knew the substance when he saw it.

_"Awaken from the endless pit, and deliver your servents power. Rise, rise, rise!"_

Energy spilled out from the circle's center, as the chanting grew progressively louder. The foreign power touched Harry's skin and the hair on the back of his neck wanted to crawl down his spine. He gritted his teeth as the energy sparked the air, making it hum just at the edges of his hearing. Whatever the ritual was it was something extremely powerful. He could feel it down deep in his stomach.

"Freeze! Wands on the floor and hands in the air!" yelled Jameson, as the squad flanked his sides all wands trained on the warlocks. "Wands on the floor now!"

There was a long moment as both sides paused, each taking the measure of the other. Then it was over. The warlocks moved first and the air exploded with light and yells. Harry rolled out of the way as the wall behind him iced over, frost rapidly spreading from floor to ceiling. He came up on a knee, and stabbed his wand into the air. Mauve light flashed forward clipping a warlock's shoulder, who almost managed to narrowly avoid the spell. The warlock rolled to his feet, his arm hanging oddly lifeless. It would take at least a half hour before the Paralyzing Curse lost effect. Harry slung another curse. That was more than enough time.

Ruinous jade light zoomed toward him. He flicked his wand and a boulder intercepted the spell. The boulder blackened rapidly, and then fell to dust in the blink of an eye. He grimaced and didn't want to think about the consequences of the spell hitting him. His wand swished and scarlet light shot out in a glob of magic. The glob struck the warlock and grew to ensnare the man within the bubble shaped trap. Harry whispered a word, and the glob shrunk till it was the size of a marble.

Spells whizzed by and the cave rocked as magic collided with walls, shaking loose dirt and stone. Hendricks spun on the ball of his heel, bringing his wand around in a sweeping arc. Yellow light flung off the end only to encounter a hastily casted shield that covered two hooded warlocks. Retaliating, the warlocks moved in unison, and their spell blurred through the air in a combined attack. Harry conjured a shield before Hendricks, but it didn't fully form in time as the black light bashed through his defense and slammed into Hendricks with a loud boom.

His head and most of the upper part of his body were gone in an explosion of red. The scattered remains weren't even enough to piece together. His dead body fell to the ground in a splatter of blood. So much blood. Quarts of thick red blood poured from the mess of mangled flesh. Spine peeked out from the gore still pearly white, and brain matter clung stubbornly to its end.

Harry wiped at the drops of blood that splattered across his face. Anger throbbed deep in his gut. He took that feeling and wrapped it around him. Anger was good. It was better than the empty calm that lingered near. To kill without feeling was a dark path that existed within him, but kept under lock and key, and he wanted to keep it that way. He didn't like to journey down that road too often.

He lashed out with the ferociousness of an animal just unleashed. Snarling, his wand cut through the air and ruby beams of light rained from above. The shower of light burned where it landed and smoke sizzled from the impact points, and they howled as the first few rays hit true before they threw up a shield.

Shadows slithered along the ground merging with his own shadow. Harry looked down in confusion as dark tendrils shot up from his shadow and wrapped themselves solidly around his ankles. He groaned as ice ran through his veins, cooling his skin, and siphoning energy to grow stronger to spread further through his body.

His wand tip emitted a pulse of light dimly at first, growing brighter with each pulse like a revving engine, until it produced a strobe of light. Light poured forth in waves ploughing through the clinging shadows that were now leeched onto his midsection. The light blazed through the darkness burning the shadows into less than nothing.

Shadow magic was outlawed in 1899 for a reason. Harry rubbed at his chest. He would see to it that they rotted in Azkaban. His heart returned to its normal rhythm, as blood rushed unhindered through his body.

Fire raced toward him in a cyclone of thick flames before he could fully recover. He ground his feet and twirled his wand like a baton.

"Child of flames, protect me," Harry whispered like a prayer, focusing his power into the core of his wand.

The spinning wand made a soft humming sound as it rotated, and then it grew louder morphing into a familiar trilling song that inspired courage and roused the heart into action. A transparent version of Fawkes appeared before Harry, shining wings outstretched as a defiant cry left its beak. The flames were swallowed by the apparition's flapping wings in a stunning display. The songbird let out another defiant cry, and Harry banished the wand's avatar.

He thrust out his wand and an invisible wave of force caught one of the warlocks in the gut. The warlock rocketed backward and slammed into the cave wall with a thud. He slumped to the ground in an unmoving heap.

The remaining warlock made a slashing motion and Harry bit back a curse as a deep gash appeared on his arm, starting at the shoulder and ending at his elbow. He hissed feeling the blood drip down his arm in a thin and steady stream. Harry waved his wand and eight orbs of tightly packed electricity zoomed toward his opponent.

The warlock hastily threw up a shield. The first four collided. The fifth and sixth broke through, shattering the transparent barrier. He deflected the seventh orb and the eight struck him in the chest, sending his body into convulsions as the electricity disrupted every nerve in his system. Harry sidestepped the rebounded orb. He almost choked on the sudden power that surrounded him, like he was a small stone at the bottom of an ocean. The step accidently had him standing in the ritual circle. _Merlin's ghost_.

Blood flowed from the gash, falling from his arm to land against the symbols covering the ground. He barely had enough time to recognize them as being Babylonian before the warlock came at him again. Harry didn't think, he only acted. His wand came up and the air ignited with power, as a cord of magic met the fork of green light from the warlock. He grabbed his wand with both hands, fighting to control the coil of energy between them. Sparks fell from where their magic connected, showering the air in flashes of white light like fireworks.

His blood flowed steadily from the wound on his arm, mixing with the symbols adorning the ground, unintentionally joining with the blood that spread from Hendricks body. Blood of life, blood of death, combined with the unfinished ritual, and Harry's eyes widened as he felt his power spark something within the circle.

Arcs of lightning, blue like the sea, struck the ground near his feet and buzzed around him. This wasn't good, his mind screamed at him as his heart hammered in his throat. Too much magic, too many types, was mixing. Something that should never ever be done.

The power didn't just build up within the circle, it exploded. Harry screamed, staggering back as waves upon waves of overwhelming power pressed against him. He jerked his wand and cut the coil of magic between the warlock, attempting to stop whatever was happening by any method he could. Gravity pushed down on him sending him to his knees, as the arcs of lightning grew in frequency. Dimly through the roar of magic and power, he could hear his name being called over and over, and spells fizzled against the force trapping him.

Thoughts incoherent and fleeting flashed through his mind. Images, voices, memories all swirled together in a vortex of thoughts. He closed his eyes, clenching his teeth as his skin felt like it was on fire. He wanted to tear the flesh from his bones just to escape the pain.

He looked up meeting the frantic eyes of Hawkins. If this was how it was going to end then he was going to make sure his captain knew he didn't fear death. He hadn't for a long time now.

The air thinned as oxygen rapidly left the circle. Harry grabbed at his throat. His body lifted from the ground as gravity warped, carrying him up till his toes scrapped against the stone floor. Lightning struck his left side and then the right side, sending a soundless scream tearing from his burning lungs. A deafening explosion ruptured his ears, and his vision blurred as a force gripped his insides and sent him into unconsciousness.

.

Agony swept through him in waves, muscles throbbed, bones ached, and his skin burned. Burned so bad that he thought he was on fire. His head pounded and his ears rang with a nonstop ring. Harry struggled against the grip of darkness.

"_He appears to have come through the phenomenon._"

"_We'll have to get him into a healing tank or he won't survive the night._"

"_Very well. I want guards and constant surveillance on this…thing."_

He tried to make out more but the voices faded in and out, as the ringing and pounding in his head overwhelmed him. Hands touched his body, prodding, searching. His eyes opened a crack and blurry forms hovered above him. Groaning he closed them again in pain. Darkness claimed him, and he slipped back into unconsciousness.

.

Harry opened his eyes slowly. He was floating in a tall tank immersed completely in water. Tubes went everywhere, connecting him to various parts of the tank. A mask covered his lower face pumping oxygen into his lungs. Men in white lab coats gazed up at him, writing on clipboards as they stared at monitors before the containment unit. Harry struggled against the tubes, and not more than five seconds later his strength left him, exhaustion quickly zapping at his reserves.

_What was going on?_

He thought fuzzily before he succumbed to the bone weary tiredness and closed his eyes, drifting back to sleep.

.

Voices broke through the grip of blackness that kept him constantly under grip. He strained his hearing to pick out the voices. Why did he still feel so weak? It hurt to even think. Even being conscious caused discomfort.

"_Subject M's brainwaves appear to jump, and spikes in bioelectrical energy are registered whenever the stick found with him touches his flesh—"_

"…_The X gene doesn't appear anywhere in Subject M's DNA—However, his genome appears to hold genes not present in human DNA…. Gene sequencing in some parts of DNA are ordered unnaturally, and can be attributed to evolution of the subject's species—"_

Harry fought against the smothering blackness willing his eyes to open. His body didn't respond no matter how much he tried. Something was covering his face again, forcing gas into his lungs. His thoughts fogged over as the gas increased in volume.

"_If the tests are correct then the stick is some type of focusing tool for the being's energy. Ready Operating Room two. Time to begin phase one."_

_.  
_

Harry's eyes opened and he blinked at the harsh light. He moaned, rubbing at his eyes trying to clear the spots that danced behind his eyelids. His throat was dry and scratchy. His thoughts were muddled and fuzzy and some places. Where was he? He racked his brain thinking about his few recent memories. So he wasn't dead. That was always a good thing.

He looked around the room. Calling it a room was being nice. The walls were dark and bare, a toilet rested in the corner, and the hanging light was far too bright. He swallowed. Yeah, room was being way too nice. This was a cell. He sat up in the cot and rested his feet on the ground. His muscles thankfully didn't protest the movement like he feared. How long had he been here for him to have healed so much? He had been on death's door the last he clearly remembered.

He looked down. He wore only a pair of thin gray pants and a white shirt. Idly scratching at his forearms he tried to piece together his puzzled memories. Think, Potter. Think. What happened after he had blacked out in that cave? All that magic mixing together with him at its center—theoretically every piece of him should have been scattered across the four corners of the world. So why was he alive, and where in the hell was he?

Harry cleared his throat again, and brought his hand to massage it. His fingers encountered a metal collar that brought him up short. What in the name of magic. He tugged at the collar growling in frustration when it didn't budge. This was not good. Really not good. Proves that whoever was holding him didn't have the best of intentions in mind.

Too bad that he wasn't some useless muggle. These guys should never try and trap a wizard. It never worked. Harry stood up and spun on the ball of heel reaching beyond, into the space+between. He waited on the familiar lurch and pop, but it didn't come.

"Not possible," he whispered in disbelief, panicking for the first time.

Harry fell back on the cot. He was sure these people were muggles. The technology he witnessed was stuff wizards wouldn't dream of employing. So where had his seemingly muggle captors learn to cast anti+apparation wards?

There was a click and the door slid open. Harry tensed as a man stepped into the room. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his lab coat, and his auburn hair was peppered with gray. He looked at Harry behind thick black glasses.

"Good, you're awake," noted the man, his tone and face neutral. "I'm Dr. Ward."

Harry didn't care about formalities. "Where am I?"

"We found you after you came through an unnatural anomaly. You were hanging between life and death, and we fixed you up..." Here he paused. And Harry didn't like it. "Your _unique_ physiology has interested quite a few people. You will prove a valuable asset to this institution, and this country."

The casual way the man spoke didn't stop the uneasiness Harry felt deep in his gut. This man wasn't to be trusted. Everything that he was warned him to be wary. Harry stood up and the man stepped back. So the good doctor realized that he had just backed a lion into a corner. Point for him.

"You will let me out of here," demanded Harry, his voice deceptively soft. "You don't know who you're messing with."

Dr. Ward took a step back just as Harry stepped forward. His hand came free of his pocket and in his grip was a remote device that he pointed at Harry. A tiny smile tugged at the edges of his lips.

"Take one more step, and you'll find out one of the nastier effects of the collar besides preventing you from using your powers."

There was no such thing that could contain a wizard's power. He weighed his options and took a chance. Harry lunged forward. Pain took over a millisecond later sending him stumbling and crashing to the floor. He glared up at the doctor, convulsing as the feeling of hot pokers stabbed into his brain. Abruptly the feeling cut off, and he shook from the after effects.

"I daresay it would be in your wellbeing to not try that again," said Dr. Ward, his unwavering tone turning edgy and sharp. "We know you're not from this world. It doesn't matter where you came from. We only care about what you can do, and what you will do for us. You are now the property of the United States government."

Harry interrupted the speech, reeling from the implications. "I'm still a citizen of England, and people will come looking for me. You don't know what we're capable of. What _I'm_ capable of."

He wasn't completely sold on the alternate world bit, but the doctor was dead serious. He couldn't argue the possibility of its truth. That magic had been raw, untamed, and chaotic. Magic that different had never before been melded together to the best of his knowledge.

Dr. Ward raised one dark eyebrow, unperturbed by Harry's outburst. "Are your arms and legs giving you any trouble?"

Harry remembered the uncomfortable itching sensation he felt earlier from his forearms. He glanced at his arms, and then snapped his head toward the stoic doctor.

"What did you do to me?" growled Harry.

The doctor ran an eye over Harry's bare arms critically. "There isn't even a hint of scarring. Interesting." He looked Harry in the eye. "The stick found with you we determined amplified the energy emissions detected within you."

Harry's eyes widened as realization settled deep in his gut. "You didn't—"

"One piece of the rod went into each forearm and the same with your legs."

Horrified, he stared at his arms. There really was no scar. If it wasn't for the weird itching he wouldn't had suspected. He swallowed heavily. This was wrong, all of it was wrong. He wasn't some lab rat. Some type of experiment. He was scared, but overall he was angry. At the core of all fear there was anger and he grabbed that emotion and held it tight. He refused to show any fear to people who weren't humane enough to treat him as a human being.

Dr. Ward nodded at the dark look Harry leveled him with. "That anger is good. That's exactly what we're looking for in our weapons. Forget what you were before. We own you now. Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D., Subject M."

.

Then the training started.

They came for him the next morning testing his reflexes, his stamina, his strength and abilities. The battery of tests would have made Professor Snape proud. They were more like sessions of torture than anything else. They pushed him to the limit, and experimented on him the way they would an animal.

His favorite was when they held his head underwater to see how long he could go before he drowned. It was the easiest test since it gave him time to think. Under the water he had time to order his mind, and brace himself for the rest of the day's horror.

The days blurred together in a stream of pain. Pain from fighting, training, tests. All were worse than the last.

How long had he been here? A month, a day, a year, or years? He didn't know, and a small part of him almost didn't care.

He took a seat in the chair that had become as familiar as his old Firebolt. They strapped him in and attached the wires to every portion of his skin, clamping them on with quick and efficient movements. The helmet was last. Its bulky weight didn't bother him anymore. It covered his entire head extending down as far his neck.

There was a distant static that clicked and then the images came. His eyes were assaulted by violence. People killing people in the most brutal and effective ways possible, some scenes involved weapons, and some just used their bare hands. His muscles twitched as the device sent learning impulses to his nerve endings, writing the combat into his muscle memory.

They had attempted to brainwash him, but the years of Occlumency had given him a resistance that surprised them and partly him as well. So they had to make do with trying to break him, conditioning him, molding him into a new man, a weapon.

Red painted across his vision as a soldier unloaded a full clip from a machine gun into an enemy's chest.

For hours it went till he couldn't see straight, till his eyes burned, yet still he sat in that chair. Watching. _Learning_.

"Okay, M, you know the assignment. Complete the simulation to the best of your abilities. The collar's suppression on your powers will be turned off for the duration of the simulation. Any attempt of subterfuge and the collar activates. And you know what happens then."

The voice drifted from the observation room above. Harry clenched his fists and nodded. It's not like he had much choice. If he did manage to apparate from the facility, or touch the collar then it would detonate leaving him a bloody mess on the floor.

He felt the switch as soon as the collar stopped repressing his powers. His magic washed over him like a warm wind, comforting and reassuring him that yes, he still was a wizard. Harry reveled in the sensation, in the magic.

"Simulation starting _now_."

The space in the room rippled like heat waves in the desert replacing the circular gray room of before. He stood in a city that looked like it had seen better days. Buildings were destroyed, fires ravaged in small clusters, and there was destruction as far as he could see. He could even smell the smoke and ash in the dank air.

The ground rumbled and he barrel rolled out of the way, as from the ground rose up a mechanical construct. Lasers shot out from the device, and Harry conjured a shield to deflect the shots. He ran to the firing device, dodging the red beams as they struck the ground near his swiftly moving form. A strong Blasting Charm tore it from its support.

A car lifted up on its own, rocketing toward him as if thrown like a paper weight. Harry waved his hand and sent a conjured ball of condensed air at the car. The globe of air had enough speed and force behind it to stop a speeding truck in its path. It struck its target and the car was flung back, crashing into the store window of a clothing store.

The sound of whirring gears reached his ears a split second too late, and he snapped his head up. The servo assisted piston crushed him into the ground. He screamed as his ribs cracked, and his head pounded harder than anything he could remember as the weight pressed him into the cold concrete. Gathering his strength and sucking up everything he had, Harry _pushed _with a growl full of passion and determination. The gears of the piston whirred loudly as the machine was pressed the opposite way.

Phoenixes could lift heavy objects many times their weight, as was their way, and now so could Harry. The abilities of the phoenix existed within him, pumping through his blood as if it were his own natural gifts. A primal roar left his lips as he lifted with every ounce of strength, and there was a great crash from above. The piston broke apart from its servo, and Harry threw the metal cylinder up and away. It crashed into the ground, skipping once, and knocking up cement as it skidded along the street.

The ground shook again. This time it wasn't a constant rumble. It had a rhythm. Footsteps. Something was coming. Something big. Not something. _Someone_. Harry tensed, watching the giant man walk down the desolate street, taller than most of the buildings.

When he first got here he would have been frightened. Hesitant. Not anymore. Hesitation got you hurt, whether by the simulation or those in charge. Harry sized up his opponent. The giant had muscle on top of muscle. He was dressed in a one piece brown suit with a matching cap that left his face bare, but covered the rest of his head. A pair of dark goggles hid eyes from view.

He cracked his knuckles. This was going to hurt. For the both of them. Harry dodged the truck the giant kicked at him. It whizzed by missing him by only inches. Harry ran forward swiftly. If he could knock out the legs then it would be easy to finish this up.

Harry cried out as the massive foot caught him in the back. He flew off his feet into a nearby car's windshield. He landed with a heart wrenching crash. The giant laughed and picked Harry up, his body dangling like a rag doll. He groaned as broken bone, and cut skin screamed at him by sending his waves of pain through his body. The giant jerked his arm and launched Harry up into the sky.

Up and up he went. Harry gasped as the air sped past his face. His eyes watered, and he could barely keep them open as the wind rushed over him. Then he suddenly stopped in mid air as the throw reached its maximum height. The negative g force pulled at him, and he fell this time under the effects of gravity.

He was better than this. He would not lose to a simulation. He turned his body maneuvering so he was facing the ground. Harry clasped his hands, incanting under his breath. His fists took on a golden glow. The strength enhancement charm was the same one the Mongolians used to conquer the eastern world in ancient days. His strength grew and amplified greater than even his phoenix graced ability allowed.

He came down like a comet, bright and fast. The ground rushed closer by the second. The giant man looked up only to get smacked across the face, as the glowing fists hammered home. A gold shockwave hit, enveloping the entire area. The giant fell back, dazed and winded, and he crashed into the building behind him. The building caved around him as he laid back in its broken foundation. Harry landed on the giant's stomach, moving quickly before the man regained his bearings. He ran up the fallen body moving with inhuman grace and agility, till he got to the nape of the neck.

Most people don't know that there's more than one jugular vein. There are two sets consisting of an external jugular, and an internal jugular vein. The internal one is larger than the external one, and pumps more blood from the brain back to the heart. Cut the external one and a person could die within five minutes, cut both of them good enough including the carotid artery, and a person could die in about one minute.

Harry flexed his fingers above the giant's neck and focused all thought. _Sectumsempra._

The cutting curse burst from his palm tangible and invisible to the eye. Blood erupted from the incision in a geyser of red. Instead of leveling out and cutting off, Harry focused more power into the attack and the spell doubled and refocused. He dragged his hand wide, and the curse moved like an invisible sword, tearing through the neck like butter.

When the human body bleeds out blood spurts and then eventually seeps out. Now imagine if a human body was a hundred times bigger. Gallons of blood spilled out from the slit throat like a broken water main. He jumped off the body as the giant's hands flew to his throat, his whole body shaking from his choking and gasping.

Harry landed on the ground in a crouch. He rose up and watched detached as the life rapidly bled away from the giant man. Nails dug into his palms painfully. He kept his mind on that pain. That was only the real thing in this place. The pain centered him and kept him focused from being effected by the loss of life. He couldn't show emotion. He was too far along in the program to make that mistake.

The room rippled taking away the dead giant and derelict city, revealing the room's true plain interior. The doors to his right slid open and two guards appeared in the doorway.

"_Take the subject back to his cell. That's all for now._"

A sensation of wrongness settled over him, running down the back of his neck. The collar had been activated, dulling his magic till he couldn't even feel it as a dim echo in the back of his head. He knew that feeling far too well. He let them lead him to his cell. As usual he kept his eyes open and head up. If the collar ever malfunctioned or truly died then he would take that chance, and break out of here. Knowing the layout was the key to that scenario.

They dropped him in the middle of his cell on the floor, and promptly walked out without a word. Business as usual then. Harry picked himself up moving so he could rest his back against the edge of the cot.

The throbbing pain in his body had settled to a dull ache. It was a matter of time before the ache faded taking his injuries away with it. He healed with more than human speed, but it wasn't instantaneous. But it was better than suffering through terrible pain while his wounds healed human slow. The phoenix traits in his veins accounted for some amazing abilities he had to admit, but was it worth it? Never.

Too many times after implanting his wands in his body had they cut him open, flayed his skin, burned him, choked him to the point of death. Each time recording how long it took him to recover, measuring time against the inflicted damage.

He glared at the steel door. How many times had he banged on it, bloodying his fists on its surface, doing anything to get free? Eighty nine.

Help wasn't coming for him. Not then and not now. He knew that Dr. Ward was right. He had come from an alternate world. The consequences of all that magic mixing that night were endless. If it had propelled him into a different Earth, some type of alternate universe, it was surely probable. It explained why he hadn't been rescued. People would have come for him by now. The British Ministry of Magic and even its muggle counterpart would be searching for him. That was a fact. No way would they just let him disappear. The _Prophet_ had named him a national treasure after receiving his second Order of Merlin, First Class.

He sighed. That didn't matter here. In this place he was little more than an animal. They had called him _it_ for at least a month. These days he was better known as Subject M, sole test recipient and prisoner of Project M.

He must have mumbled something about magic when he fist arrived here, fever ridden and delirious. They knew about his magic somehow, and they were determined to twist it and him for their goals. They wanted a perfect solider, an assassin, a weapon.

He had heard snatches here and there about a Weapon X program, and more often than that, Project: Rebirth. What any of those had to do with him he didn't know. He picked himself up and laid out on the cot.

All he had now was time. He just had to wait for the moment till he could free himself. If you had enough will there was a way. Sirius had shown him that. If his godfather could survive Azkaban for twelve years and break out, then Harry could eventually reenact his own great escape.

Alarms blared through the complex.

Harry's eyes snapped open. He shot up in bed standing up lightning quick, months of training coming instinctively. He hadn't even registered moving. He braced himself, only slightly rocking back on his heels as the ground shook.

His mind went through the possibilities. It had to be a bomb. He knew what an explosion felt like. His training had seen to that. The ground quaked again as well as the building itself. Harry heard yells outside the door followed by a staccato of gunfire. There were thuds. Then silence. Something hit against the door. Harry tensed up, sliding into a stance as blood pounded loudly in his ears.

There was a wrenching noise that sounded like metal against metal. The door was ripped from the wall and heaved to the floor. A figure appeared in the doorway silhouetted against the light. Harry squinted his eyes trying to make out the form. His hands balls up and he pivoted, ready to strike as the figure stepped forward.

It was a man dressed in a blue suit. His boots and gloves were red; the same color as the red and white strips that ran vertical down his midsection. A white star blazed across his broad chest. The letter A adorned his blue cowl that extended from the neck of his suit to cover his head. His belt included pouches that looked meant for weapons. He was dangerous. He would be a fool to not think this man was a soldier through and through.

"Relax, son, I know what they've been doing to you," said the man. "We're going to get you out here."

Harry didn't relax, but he couldn't stop the ray of hope that swept through his chest. "Experience has taught me not to trust grown men in masks. Who are you, and who is we?"

"_We_ are the Ultimates," he answered, blue eyes bright beneath the cowl. "And I'm Captain America."

* * *

I've been reading my Ultimates comics since Ultimatum is coming up soon, and I got this idea in my head about doing this crossover. I've seen a lot of stories with Harry joining the X Men, and even a few Iron Man crosses too. They all either take place in the movieverse, or the regular marvel universe. But I've never seen a Harry in the Ultimate Marvel universe before, and actually joining that universe's version of the Avengers – _the Ultimates_, instead of the X Men.

This will be my first time writing a story that crosses with a comic book, but I hope to do it justice. For those that don't read comics, and have no idea what Ultimate Marvel is its pretty simple. It's basically a reimaged and updated marvel universe with the same characters, but all have different origins and there's less baggage than with the regular marvel continuity. So it will be easy to follow along with, and readable to people that don't read the comics.


	2. A Reflection of the World

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. For better of worse that belongs to JK Rowling. The Ultimates and everything within the Ultimate Marvel Universe belongs to Marvel Comics. Which I don't own either. If I did I would retire at the age of twenty three.

* * *

**Project M.  
**Chapter Two: _A Reflection of the World  
_By: Water Mage

.

He didn't know what the Ultimates were and who Captain America was. While he did care, more than anything he just wanted to get out of here. The building shook again and Harry was running for the door before the roof came down over him. It didn't take much convincing for him to follow his rescuer. The trail of the dead bodies of his former captors validated much of the costumed hero's claim of goodwill.

A guard skidded around a corner and his semi automatic was in his hands as soon as he caught sight of the two men. Harry threw his body down behind a pile of debris. He frowned as the telltale sound of gunfire didn't register. He looked over his cover to see the guard impaled to the wall by a circular shield. The way his body dangled was enough to see what little life he had was fading fast. Captain America yanked the shield from the guard's abdomen and Harry was surprised to see that the shield was so sharp, and thrown was so much force, it embedded solidly in the wall.

The initial threat assessment of his mysterious rescuer just went up. Harry watched as the man flicked the shield sharply, cleaning it free of blood, then in one smooth action attached the weapon to his back.

"Nice moves," said Harry.

The man offered a nod and a smile. "I do my best."

They continued running amidst the sounds of a raging battle coming from just outside the building. Harry stopped to pick up a Beretta off a guard who looked like he didn't have much longer for this world. He was tempted to shoot the poor bastard to ease his suffering, but Harry figured he needed the bullets more. The bloke was a dead man anyway.

"Get down!" Harry screamed.

The guards barely made it around the corridor junction before they met their fate at the hands of speeding bullets right between the eyes. Captain America surveyed the dead men, nodding approvingly at the head shots.

"Nicely done, son," he said.

Harry shrugged with one shoulder. "I try my best."

"The rendezvous point should be through the doors they just ran in from," said Captain America, running ahead with Harry at his side.

They burst from the facility and Harry was momentarily taken aback by the smell of outside air. Real air, not the imitation crap that pumped through the vents during the simulation exercises. The wind carried smoke on its back and he inhaled it like it was the freshest thing he had ever smelled. Instinctively he tugged at the collar and a sigh of frustration left his lips. He knew it would take more than stepping foot outside to get the damn thing off, but he always associated outside with being collar free. And more than anything he wanted this cursed piece of metal off his neck.

A whirlwind swept through the forested area not a moment later. The wind was followed by the loud, whirring blades of a small, sleek back-and-gray copter that touched down on the grassy lawn. Another explosion rocked the building and Harry looked into the sky.

A man, no it was a robot, honestly he wasn't sure what the thing was that hovered in the night sky. The red and gold armored being was lit up like a nightlight. Shoulder mounts slid open to reveal their hidden ordinance. A heartbeat later eight missiles launched from the power armor, discharging fire as they ejected from their tanks. They flew in an arc like glowing streamers, and hit home as they engulfed the building in a fireball of destruction.

"Bloody hell," Harry murmured, amazed at the up-close and personal visual of ruin.

Captain America clapped him on the back and pointed at the helicopter. "There's our ride."

He tore his eyes from the armored being zipping through the sky dealing destruction where it saw fit. He finally registered the alarms blaring through the air, and he shook himself once. It was finally time he got the hell out of dodge. Harry jumped into the helicopter behind Captain America, as the man grabbed a headset from the pilot.

"The cargo is secure," said Captain America into the microphone. "Repeat: the cargo is secure, over. You're a go, Stark. Torch this Godforsaken place."

The helicopter shot into the air as fireworks exploded in the sky. He moved closer to the window to see that the fireworks were actually over thirty missiles launching from the power armor. It was quite a sight to see them end their ballistic arc and detonate against the facility that had been his prison. A smile formed on his face as the building went up in flame.

Harry licked his lips as he watched the building collapse. "I can see why they call you guys the Ultimates."

Captain America grinned. "You haven't even seen the whole team."

.

It took them an hour to arrive in New York City, particularly the Upper Bay of Manhattan. In the harbor rested a massive and breathtaking three pronged facility built on a boomerang shaped island. The central building rose up in a truncated cylinder with a golden glow emanating from its numerous lit windows. It was ultramodern and looked every bit as intimidating as it was meant to.

"It takes some getting used to," admitted Captain America. He watched the looming structure grow closer as they approached the asphalt disc of the helicopter pad. "Welcome to the Triskelion. S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters."

"_What?_" he hissed, glaring at the face hidden behind the cowl. "Last time I checked you were _rescuing_ me from S.H.I.E.L.D."

Blue eyes looked away and Captain America sighed. "It's a long story."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "That's a story I'd like to hear."

The copter landed with a barely felt bump. Harry jumped from the helicopter and he looked up as a whine of engines registered over the copter blades. The armored being curved around to their position, cutting thrust at the last possible minute. He landed on both feet and in one swift movement removed the suit's helmet, revealing a handsome, smiling man.

He looked like one of those old movie stars from the black and white movies Aunt Petunia used to be so fond of. He had a dazzling smile and a neat Van dyke mustache and goatee. "This is the man of the hour I take it. They call me Iron Man when I'm wearing this contraption. You can call me Tony Stark during my off hours. I bet you're glad we busted you out."

Harry didn't know what to say. The man was charming. His broad smile and easygoing chatter loosened a bit of tension coiling in his shoulders. Harry realized a second later that was the intention. Oh, he was _good._ He didn't drop his guard though.

"Is this the part where you take me to your leader?" he asked, staring at the men.

Captain America blinked. "Yes actually."

And they did. Twenty minutes later he found himself deep in the center complex. The room was like a classic interrogation room. He wondered if they were keeping him here because they didn't trust him, or if they just wanted to pump information out of him. Harry surveyed the room. Metal chairs, one single table, and metallic walls that shone like mirrors.

The door slid open and Captain America entered sans cowl. He recognized the blue eyes but the blond hair and chiseled face wasn't a surprise. Behind him entered a black man with a bald head. He had an eye patch and his bearing was ramrod straight, military through and through.

The black man stepped forward, offering his hand. "General Nick Fury, director of S.H.I.E.L.D."

Harry stared at the black gloved hand, making no move to take it. Fury took the hint and dropped it. He and Captain America took a seat on the other side of the table. Harry watched the new man with fire in his eyes. Here was the guy in charge of the organization that held him captive since he had come to this backwater world.

"You know I could reach across this table and kill you in five ways. It would take me no longer than three seconds. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't put your head on a stick?"

Fury didn't even blink at the glare and cold tone directed at him. He jerked his thumb at the blond beside him. "This guy right here is faster, stronger, better. And I sign his paychecks."

"So when did kidnapping become a part of the United States government's charter?" asked Harry, glaring at Fury.

Fury placed a stack of files on the table and slid them over to Harry. "Never, and for that I want to personally apologize for everything you've been put through. We know about your predicament and arrival here to this universe a year ago. The unit of SHIELD holding you was a rogue branch, and we only found out about them because an accountant noticed shunted funds. So we followed the money, and we found you."

"They knew I wasn't from this Earth," Harry muttered, watching the muscles under his hands flex as if it was the first time noticing such an occurrence. "And they still did things to me."

Fury ran a hand over his bald head. "We know. We've shut them down permanently."

"Why?" said Harry, unable to smother the rage in his voice. "I deserve an answer damn it! Why did they do all that shit to me!"

Captain America glanced at Fury. "Tell him, General. He has a right to know."

"Did you have a World War Two, Mr. Potter, in your world I mean?" asked Fury. At Harry's slow nod, he continued, "We had one ourselves."

Harry eyed the General. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything," answered Fury. "It all comes back to that. In this universe that's where events originate. It's our history. Not many people know all this and for good reason. Four things stem from that war. The Super Soldier Project. Weapon X. Operation Rebirth. Project M."

Weapon X and Operation Rebirth were familiar. He heard the scientists whispering amongst themselves when they thought he was unconsciousness or out of earshot. He figured they related to him but he could never puzzle out how.

"World War Two was about hope and symbols and freedom. It was the cornerstone of what people were fighting for. 1942, President Roosevelt authorized the creation of the Super Soldier Project. Its purpose was to create a soldier who was faster, stronger, and superior than any other soldier on the planet. The program was a success. It gave us Captain America."

"1942…" Harry started to stay, but Fury held up his hand.

"Not done yet, Mr. Potter. Captain America was everything they wanted. He was deadlier than any soldier alive. Any weapon he touches, he instantly adapts to it and can kill you with it before you could draw breath. His tactical intelligence is off the scale. Anything short of cutting off his head, he'll survive and come back from, and make wish you'd done that. He's the most dangerous man alive. And we made him that way."

"Made him?" asked Harry, looking at Captain America with new eyes.

Furry nodded. "Problem numero uno. The formula, the key to the super soldier serum that made him the way he is, was lost. One of the scientist was working for the other side and he double crossed his whole team. The project scientists were killed in the double cross, all of them. And with their deaths, the secret of the super soldier formula went to their graves." He held up two fingers. "The second setback was in 1945. Captain America diverts a Hydrogen missile from hitting Washington. It detonates over the Arctic Ocean, killing the world's greatest hero. So that leaves us no Captain America and no formula. The project's a bust and the program fails at recreating another super soldier."

"Do you understand so far?" asked Captain America.

"Not much to misunderstand. America created a soldier. Soldier dies." He paused, head tilting as he studied the aforementioned soldier. "Although…how you're alive now that remains unanswered."

"We'll get to that," said Fury. He took a moment to remember where he left off. "Next came Weapon X. After the Super Soldier Project ended with the war, Weapon X was initiated a few years later. It was believed the next war would be fought with genetically altered soldiers. For awhile there was a genetic arms race. Most of it was unethical and highly illegal. At the end of the finish line for America we got Wolverine. You want to win a war you send in Captain America. You want someone killed you call Wolverine. He's the perfect killer. Largely due to the fact he's unkillable. He's got a healing factor stronger than yours and Captain America's combined. He's fitted with unbreakable bones, retractable claws, and a killer instinct that borders on animalistic."

"Déjà vu," remarked Harry, noting the parallel with his own recent history.

Captain America smiled apologetically. "General Fury was responsible for shutting down the program personally. Weapon X experimented on non-volunteers. It was criminal the things they did to its test subjects and the actions they carried out."

He wasn't faking the righteous anger in his voice. Harry could see the indignant fury blazing all on his face. Well goody for him. Where was he when their little rogue faction first scooped him up? Nowhere.

Fury went on to explain how Weapon X's primary goal was altering mutants to become superpowered assassins. That was one term Harry already knew at least. Mutants had been covered extensively during his mental training in the chair. Those with the X-gene had superhuman abilities that made them a dangerous group of people. He had to shake off the tactical information that immediately triggered in his mind, producing weaknesses and strengths of known extrahuman abilities.

"Things were never the same after the mess Weapon X created," said Fury. "Crime became super-crime. Terrorism became super-terrorism. America needed a symbol again. The government called for a new super soldier. A new Captain America. Thus begins Operation Rebirth, directed by Dr. Banner. Using all the research Weapon X gathered on genetics legitimately this time, a team of doctors tried to recreate the super soldier formula."

Harry eyed up Captain America. "I'm guessing it worked."

"Not exactly," replied Fury, scratching at his goatee. "About seven months ago we discovered Captain America frozen in ice down in the Arctic. The boys fished him out, mainly to get a blood sample for Banner. The brains figured maybe they could reverse engineer the formula from his blood. Turns out the super soldier formula was better than we all thought. As soon as they thawed him out, he woke up."

"You've been on ice since the 40's?" asked Harry, voice full of disbelief and skepticism. "Forgive me for saying you don't look a year older than twenty nine."

Captain America smiled. "It took some getting used to for me too. They say I was preserved in a kind of suspended animation."

"Even with Captain America's blood Operation Rebirth failed to recreate the serum," said Fury. "Some people were unsatisfied with the lack of results. When you came through that anomaly they saw it as an opportunity to experiment with a subject unlike anything they've encountered. They wanted to create a weapon that was the best of both Captain America and Wolverine."

Harry frowned darkly. "And so Project M was born. Do you know what I am? Do you know what I can do?"

Fury gestured at the files on the table. "We managed to copy these files from the hard drive of the computers where they kept you. We know a few people who can use magic. Doctor Strange is famous for it."

Harry snatched up the folders. He flipped through the papers, scowling as he came upon pages and pages of notes on his physiology alone. There was enough information on him in the files to fill a book. Everything about him was here. His fever induced ramblings from his first months were transcribed and carefully commented on. They had copies of his DNA sequence and charts with observations on his genome compared to the human norm. His surgical notes went into detail about his wand implants and how they pumped him full of steroids to enhance his muscles to compensate for his newfound strength.

Harry pointed to an unfamiliar word. "What's adamantium and how does this collar work anyway?"

He tried a few times to magic the damn thing off only to get a nasty jolt of electricity directly to his nervous system for his effort.

"It's an indestructible metal," answered Captain America.

"As for your other question, you utilize a specific part of your brain to use magic and they noticed it during brain scans," explained Fury, scanning a paper with slanted writing. "The collar constantly monitors your brain functions and emits an ultrasonic frequency when that region of the brain is activated. Auditory functions directly linked to that area of the brain functions are targeted, and the signal interferes so you can't even work up enough brainpower to use your powers."

"Can you get this thing off?" asked Harry, tracing the metal around his neck. He rolled his eyes as they traded glances. "I promise I'm not up to anything. I swear."

Fury leaned across the table, glaring at Harry with his one visible eye. "Let's get one thing straight, Mr. Potter. I feel bad for you. I can't lie about that. What you went through sucks. But if you try and take some kind of vengeance against us or whatever, there'll be nowhere you can hide. SHIELD will find you and I'll make you regret ever setting foot on my planet. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," said Harry coolly, refusing to bow down from that glare.

Fury reached into his pocket and withdrew a small black square. He pressed something on the device and there was a momentary flash of red light from its center. At the same time the collar fell from his neck without fanfare. Harry closed his eyes smiling as the rush of magic filled his nerves. It was almost as good as coming home. He felt whole and centered for the first time in a long time.

Harry couldn't fight the small smile on his face. "Thank you, General. Thank you too, Captain, for saving my life."

"The name's Steve Rogers. You can call me by either name," said the blond man, returning the smile. "I was just doing my duty."

"It still needed to be said," Harry replied, feeling better with the familiar energy coursing through his body. "I may be a long way from home but I still have manners."

Fury smirked. "Speaking of home…" His smirk morphed into a smile as Harry's eyes widened, surprised and full of hope. "Crossing universes has been done before, and I know just the person who'll have the best shot at getting you home. "

"Who?" Harry asked, failing to mask his anxiousness.

_He was going home._

"Reed Richard's his name and he's the smartest person on this side of the continent. I can have him here tomorrow morning."

.

How did they expect him to sleep after telling him news like that? The guest quarters were nice. After an extra long hot shower Harry spent the rest of a sleepless night in bed, flicking through the channel lineup. He paid extra attention to news channels. He really didn't need information on this world, since hopefully he would be making his grand exit, but he felt fascination with the current events anyway.

Even though weeks had passed since the Ultimates very public scuffle with a being called the Hulk, the news were still treating the piece as if it happened yesterday. Harry watched another clip of Captain America and Thor take down the green giant known as the Hulk. Horny and on a rampage the creature carved a path of death and destruction through Manhattan. The news remained skeptical to believe if the blond haired, axe-hammer wielding man was the real Thor, as he claimed, but the way he threw lightning around raised eyebrows.

"I may work with the Ultimates, but that doesn't mean I'm a super commando for the government," boasted the blond. Thor ran a hand through his long hair. "I will not involve myself in international disputes. That's not to say my aid is only for the benefit of the US."

Harry flicked the channel and this time there was an Asian woman and surly looking man sitting together on a couch. They wore matching wedding rings and the woman was twirling a finger through her husband's unruly brown hair.

"Hank just has a bruised ego, Barbra," said the woman coyly. The caption under her image said Janet Pym '_the Wasp_' of the Ultimates.

The interviewer patted the man's knee. "Don't pout, Dr. Pym. You weren't the only one of your team that the Hulk bested. You were just the only one that didn't get back up."

Hank Pym '_Giant Man_' of the Ultimates scowled and said through gritted teeth, "Why thank you for that excellent recap Barbra. Cause you know, I was there and all. Jan stop playing with my hair."

Jan and Barbra shared a little laugh and the pixie haired woman leaned over to whisper into her husband's ear. Harry switched the channel as the man turned red. He dropped the remote on the bed, and left it on one of the hundred's of movie channels.

The Ultimates weren't like the heroes in the comic books. They were real people and after witnessing their individual personalities it was incredible they even clicked well enough to make a cohesive team. The interviews they gave each shined light on their character for the public. Tony Stark and Steve Rogers were just as they came across when he met them. Stark was charismatic and somewhat ego-centric. Rogers was a boy scout. He always said his 'yes, sirs' and 'yes, ma'ams' and didn't let you forget that he was from a different time with his perfect manners. He might look like a fitness model but he talked like someone's grandfather.

Thor was what he imagined a hippie to be like if he ever met one in real life. He resembled a Viking with his Nordic looks, but his Mother Earth attitude and green way of thinking almost made one forget that this man had unleashed the fury of the heavens on national television.

He couldn't tell much from Hank and Jan Pym other than both was doctors of science. Jan tended to come off as very sexual, and played well for the cameras. Hank usually did as well till his defeat at the hands of the Hulk was mentioned, then he inevitably would go stone faced and uncooperative.

The Ultimates were the public face of super humans, and since they were government sponsored the people were treating them like national heroes. The Hulk had managed to kill almost a thousand people before the Ultimates brought him down. A large amount for a fight that lasted an hour total. He closed his eyes. Could that have been him? If kept in that place for a few more years would he have turned into some mindless killing machine that needed to be brought down?

He was dangerous now.

He knew it and sure enough Nick Fury knew it. The files they had on him had included his training regime and his subsequent progress over the last year of captivity. They molded him to be deadlier, and he was. He knew over a handful of martial arts. He could dismantle a gun with his eyes closed. He knew countless spells he could use to kill. The Killing Curse was a Godsend compared to some of the things he could unleash upon a target. He blinked. Were people targets to him now instead of foes or enemies?

He didn't even know exactly when he began to think so tactically. And it worried him.

A chime echoed through the room and Harry glanced at the clock on the wall. He swore at the blinking time. It was already nine am sharp. The night had slipped past him in channel surfing and internal musing. He got up and answered the door.

Rogers stood in the doorway dressed in a pair of green BDU's, minus his Captain America ensemble. "Good morning, son. You cleaned up well."

Harry had showered and shaved and even trimmed his hair. He left it shoulder length since he was afraid of hexing off his own ears going for something more conservative like Rogers hairstyle. He donned the suit jacket and took a breath.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"I understand," Rogers offered him an understanding smile, patting his shoulder. "I know what its like to be far from home."

As they walked down the corridor toward the elevators, Harry realized the time displaced man did know the lost feeling that thumped inside his own chest. Harry swallowed thickly proffering the Captain a thankful smile. He gave up watching the numbers of the floors light up as the continual descent took them deeper than ground level beneath the complex. Finally there was a pleasant beep and the elevator came to a halt.

"They're in special projects lab two," said Rogers, leading him passed a row of thick reinforced doors to one that looked equally as fortified. He keyed in a code on the door and it slid open, revealing that the door was at least eight inches thick. "Here we are."

Harry entered with mixed feelings. He was apprehensive to be in another lab, but the knowledge of home was the only thing keeping his feet moving. The room had a domed ceiling and most of the lab was taken up by computer equipment. Monitors glowed and buttons beeped as they were connected to the central piece in the room. It was a platform, circular, and stationed on a raised bit of metallic platform.

General Fury and a man, younger than all of them, stood before one of the central monitors. He turned to Harry and he was struck by the youth on the man's face. He was maybe twenty one and looked it. His brown hair was cut short and his blue eyes stood out bright on his smiling face. This was the genius?

"Are you our extra-dimensional visitor?" asked Reed. "Oh, where are my manners. I'm Reed Richards."

His arm stretched on its own, without charms or a spell, extending the twelve feet separating them. Harry blinked at the stretched appendage. He had seen a lot of strange things in his life, but odd was odd. And this was odd.

Reed smiled at the surprise on Harry's face. "They call me Mr. Fantastic."

"Indeed," Harry murmured, finally taking the hand and giving it a good shake.

The arm returned to its normal length like a rubber band snapping back into place, and Reed looked like he didn't feel a thing. Harry looked around and noticed a window that had to be some type of observation room. A dozen scientists watched as Reed calibrated the machine, using his stretching abilities to the do the job of all of them.

"I've been modifying this device as sort of an upgrade to the N-Zone transporter in the Baxter Building. Principles behind the science are the same but I've tweaked the specifications," explained Reed to Fury as he typed into a keyboard. "Thanks for letting me work on it here, General."

Fury crossed his arms, looking at the platform with speculation. "Put it like this. I'd rather something go wrong here where we can contain it than the middle of Manhattan."

"I appreciate it. Our neighbors are still trying to get us evicted after the last few messes," admitted Reed, flushing.

Harry cleared his throat. "This thing is tested, right? Can it send me home?"

"We've only used it to travel parallel universes, but theoretically it should be able to get you home," said Reed. He picked up a hand device and slowly ran it over Harry, all the while talking without pause. "All matter in the universe resonates on a quantum level with a unique signature. Since you're from a different universe your signature is different than ours. It's simply a matter of attuning the transporter to match your own universe's variance…"

Fury's eye narrowed as Mr. Fantastic trailed off. "What, Richards?"

Reed pressed a series of keys on the scanner. "It's his quantum signature. Our universe's signature is for lack of better term starting to overwrite his. I've never thought such a thing's possible," he rattled off, sounding both excited and confused at the discovery. "The signature is constant and cannot be changed through any known process. It's the basic foundation of existence. Yet his is fluctuating as we speak!"

"Can you still get him home?" asked Rogers.

They all moved behind Reed as he went to the keyboard on the central console. His fingers flew across the keys and a rolling undulating script rained down the monitor. Harry couldn't make heads or tails of whatever was flashing across the screens. Reed seemed to understand because he watched the monitors with a pensive expression, making a thoughtful noise every so often.

"I've run the math twice and I've pinpointed the best potential universe that matches the quantum variance," said Reed slowly. "I do have to warn you that it might not be your universe. The science isn't exact and your signature could have degraded further than what I'm reading. You've been here a long time."

Harry gazed at the platform, stubborn determination etched on his face. "I'll try it. This is the best shot I've got at getting home."

Fury stared at him hard. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Tell him the plan," Fury ordered, turning to the scientist.

Reed stepped up to Harry holding a pair of metal bracelets that looked pure silver. "These bracelets will track you to the universe that's hopefully yours. After two hours we'll recall you back as a safety precaution. If it's your universe than we'll send you back, and if its not, well there are an infinite number of universes in the multiverse…"

"Basically I'm stuck here if its not home," cut in Harry flatly.

The young genius sighed and then nodded. "It's the best we can do."

"If it's not your home…" began Rogers.

Harry shook his head, holding up his hand to forestall the rest of Rogers' sentence. "I don't even want to entertain that thought right now."

He slipped on the bracelets and watched as Reed fired the transporter up. He was nervous. He was trying to hide it, but he wouldn't be surprised if Fury and Rogers noticed. Harry didn't want to have the conversation he probably needed to with them, about the possibility of making a life here. Right now he was focusing on getting home. He didn't want to think about it not being his universe. Doing so kept his hopes up.

The platform came to life with an ominous white glow that pulsed like a beating heart. "How does this thing work?"

Reed's eyes lit up and he didn't stop working as he answered, "The transporter will emit a tachyon pulse that will open a quantum fissure from subspace into local space contained on the platform. Your mass will be ripped apart at the subatomic level." He failed to notice Harry's eyes go wide and jaw gape. "…then sent into the transporter's safety buffers. Then you'll be shunted through the fissure, where your matter will rematerialize in the designated universe."

"Sounds delightful," said Fury sarcastically, rolling his eye. "Learn some tact, Richards."

"So why are you helping me?" Harry asked the General as the machine fired up.

"I know what it's like being a prisoner," said Fury glibly. He shrugged and then added, "Plus we owe you, since illegally or not, Project M operated under SHIELD's umbrella."

There was a whine of noise that echoed in the air as the transporter successfully powered up. Reed stepped back as the transporter's monitors flashed a meandering series of numbers before switching to a set of wavering lines that glowed electric green, each line representing a single quantum reality that existed within the multiverse.

"Transporter N2, online," said Reed, watching the screens intently. "All lights are green. We have a go."

Harry stared at the platform, cautiously. "So I just hop on that thing and away I go?"

"Pretty much," answered Reed.

"Remember you have two hours before we retrieve you for confirmation," said Rogers. "Good luck."

Harry took a deep breath and walked up on the platform. He could feel the hum of power beneath his feet as the glow pulsed in a quiet rhythm. The glow grew brighter as Reed began the process. There was a whooshing noise and light encased Harry like clear glass. He could dimly make out Reed's voice over the noise that gradually rose in pitch till it began to drown out all other senses.

"_Primary shielding in place and holding."  
"Neutrino generators at maximum power."  
_"_Sending mapping probe for universe syncing."  
_"_Power buildup within parameters."  
_"_Disengaging safeties three and four."  
_"_Bridging pathways coupling points Alpha and Beta."_

Eight violet beams shot up from his feet emitting tachyon radiation that disrupted normal space in the containment field. The normal laws of physics fled before the artificial power, as a quantum fissure ripped open above him. The air in the platform rippled and Harry barely had time to notice the unnatural effect, as his body was hit by a beam that dissembled his body all the way down to the subatomic level. It hurt coming into this world and it hurt coming out as his matter streamed through the quantum fissure. Time and space meant nothing as his matter coursed wildly between the singular planes, finding its anchor in the intended coordinates.

Reed jumped away from the transporter as sparks jumped from the keyboard. The central console went up in a burst of flames and alarms blared to life as a damage team swept into the room, fire extinguishers at the ready as they rushed toward the fire. Rogers grabbed the younger man, pulling him back as the damage team put out the flames.

"What the hell happened, Richards?" Fury demanded, rounding on the genius.

"It was the buffers. They overloaded," he replied, shocked. "Whatever power that man has it blew out the buffers."

"Can you fix it?"

"Circuits need to be replaced… as well as the buffers…. The system has to be rebooted and calibrated again…."

Fury narrowed his one good eye at the rambling scientist. "I didn't ask for specifics. Can you fix it?"

Reed nodded hastily. "Yeah."

"I need it fixed yesterday," ordered the General. He glared at the smoking machine. "We just possibly sent a man home, or at worse to another universe entirely. For all we know he could be poison to another universe… or they might see him as a weapon and declare war against us. I don't like being in the dark. You have seven hours, Richards. Get him back here."

"I'll get right on it, General."

Rogers looked at the machine and prayed that the worse case scenario didn't occur. He hoped Harry made it home. It wasn't often that good things happened to deserving people. He exited the lab and made his way to his room. If the worst case scenario did happen then he would be suited up and ready to defend his country.

* * *

Harry fell to his knees coughing so hard it was a miracle his lungs didn't come up. He closed his eyes as the world finally stopped spinning. He wiped spit from his mouth and took a moment to right himself. Groaning, he staggered to his feet and leaned against a tree.

He looked around the playground and had to give it up to the Reed. The process might have hurt like hell but at least he managed to jump universes in one piece. The sound of kids playing was uplifting. The city streets were filled with normal looking people and he felt his hopes rising even further. He walked down the street taking note of his surroundings. It took him a moment to realize he was in the middle of Times Square, still in New York or another version of it.

It took him less time than that to realize that this wasn't his universe. The last time he checked people didn't openly fly _broomsticks_ in view of the normal public. He finally dragged his eyes off a group of businessman walking out of a coffee shop. They kicked off from the group on sleek broomsticks, joining a throng of flyers in the air.

The streets were full of strange sights. People were in line at the corner, stepping onto a black pad that spirited them away in flares of blue light. A woman almost bumped into him and he stepped away, as her kid clutched tightly at her hand and her stuffed bear _walked_ right along beside her. The bear sent him a wave and skipped merrily along at the child's side.

He looked south toward the JumboTron that rose up in the center of Times Square. The LED screens showcased images proclaiming the anniversary of 'Union Day', whatever that was. People were all smiles as they wished each other a "Happy Union Day". Trumpets blared from the speakers of a window display gaining his attention. He turned around and watched as the dozens of flat screens on display came to life in a wash of color.

"_Today marks the twenty fourth anniversary of Union Day and the signing of the Treaty of Unity. A day that began in tragedy ended in a historical reveal that changed the world as we knew it. All eyes turned to Europe as the wizarding community came out of the dark and made their existence known after the Fall of Buckingham. The Treaty of Unity was signed between the natural and supernatural communities, and together they bore their might down on the Dark Lord Voldemort and his army."_

The televisions panned out to show an audience of millions crowding together in a park, all facing a stage where man in robes shook hands with a man dressed in a sharp suit. Smiling, they shook hands and the audience exploded with cheers as camera flashes went off.

"_The supernatural and natural alliance hunted down Voldermort and his terrorist army and ended the war of supremacy. The alliance then ushered in an era of peace with technological and magical advances that came from the combined schools of thought."_

He couldn't believe it as he watched snippets of history unfold on a 42' inch flat screen. Muggle and wizards worked together to fill the gaps where their respective peoples ingenuity failed. It was shocking and awe inspiring to watch as muggle and magical came together, and actually worked well enough to accomplish feats that he thought were impossible. Medicine was more advanced, transportation was cleaner, faster, and technology was developed to factor in working around high emissions of magical energy. It seemed like a utopia.

His mouth dropped as an image of Professor Dumbledore kneeling at Queen Elizabeth's feet appeared on screen. "No _bloody _way_.._."

"Hey, watch your mouth," a frowning older gentleman, also watching the televisions, chided. "Albus Dumbledore's a saint. Saved my boy's life in the supremacy war, he did."

Harry muttered an apology. _Albus Dumbledore. _That was a name he hadn't thought of in a long time. Could the old man still be alive? It was possible. This wasn't his universe that was for damn sure. If the Headmaster was still kicking did that mean others lived as well? His eyes glazed over as face after face of dead and gone people flashed through his consciousness.

"_We interrupt your broadcast to deliver devastating news…"_

Harry frowned, dread building in his chest. _Of course_ everything wasn't perfect.

"_We're receiving reports from all over the world of mass destruction…"_

People crowded around as everyone watched the utter devastation being shown, one event after another. Tsunamis fell upon Australia, drowning the country in waves of pressurized water. A mushroom cloud arose in the center of London and then raced outward as the city became engulfed in nuclear flame. Rome fell as the Vatican became a pillar of burning fire. A camera panned back as a monstrous hand ripped the Washington Monument from its stationed position. It panned back further revealing a giant hefting the monument like spear. He proceeded to use it as such, and launched it through the air. The nation's symbol struck the White House with the force of a comet and then the image went black.

"_The US Military has declared martial law, as the President and the cabinet have been listed as missing or dead. All citizens are urged to move to their homes or nearest available shelter. This is not a drill. I repeat, the US Military has…"_

Panic set in the crowd, and they didn't know which way to run first. Some people took off into the air as fast as their brooms would allow. Others ran for the teleportion pads, rushing to be anywhere but here. Harry frowned as gasps and shocked shouts jumped from mouth to mouth. He reached for that bit of magic that allowed him to apparate and found it didn't leap to his bidding. Dismay turned into realization as he realized someone had already set anti-apparation wards.

"_Scrambling wards on the whole island… can't teleport, portkey, or apparate…" _Someone said frantically from the rushing crowd.

_Scrambling wards, _Harry mouthed the unfamiliar term as he stepped out of way from the crowd that kept jostling him. He didn't know a ward that could envelope a whole city. Atlantis was said to have one, but that was just myth and it was generally thought something like that would take a whole lot of juice. More power than what the magical world… Well this wasn't his world? He didn't know how far they had come with the muggles help.

Thunder cracked across the air and it sounded like the moon itself splintered open. Lightning streaked across the night sky, and with every flash a creature flew from thin glowing cracks appearing in the air. He squinted, peering into the cloudy sky that was churning like the waves of the stormy sea. The sound of beating wings filled the air accompanied by hissing roars.

Long membranous wings that spanned a city block, prehensile tail, and lizard like necks that jutted from thick beastly bodies. They were darker and tougher than the ones from the Triwizard Tournament all those years ago, but he recognized dragons we saw them. They dotted the sky, more and more appearing with each stroke of lightning till there were hundreds of them.

People pointed at the sight and there was a long moment of time that simply froze as too much happened at once. The dragons circled the city and every one of their ranks opened their hideous mouths. Dragon fire poured from their jaws in torrents of thick blue flame. Harry threw up his hands and a blue shield flared to life around him as dragon fire fell from the sky in streams of devastating flames.

Fire slammed against his shield and he was honestly surprised it held. Dragon fire was potent for two reasons. One: the flame was the hottest fire known to wizards. With a sigh a dragon could turn sand to glass. Two: the fire came from one of the most magical creatures on Earth. Dragons were old, like dinosaurs roaming the Earth old. No charms or shields could defend against their flame at least not for long. Harry could only reason his phoenix abilities must have something to do with his unwavering defense. Phoenixes were children of fire, some say born of the Sun itself.

The screams didn't last long. As his vision cleared of unending blue flame, Harry dropped his shield. Bones and half melted carcasses were the only remains of a crowd of thousands. There was no one left. The streets were scorched so bad under the intense heat the asphalt was still bubbling. Harry turned away from the sight of a half burned body of a little girl. Her hair was gone and her skin was a mix of blackened and melted tissue. A singed bear almost unrecognizable, yet very familiar, lay next to the corpse.

Rage colored his sight red. Children didn't deserve this shit. Who would unleash dragons on a city full of innocent people? He screamed into the night, gathering magic to unleash into the horde of dragons circling the city, systematically pumping fire down the streets. A roar of wind drowned out his battle cry as from the eastern cloudbanks appeared two squadrons of F-16 fighter jets led by their own host of dragons. Their path took them directly above his head before they banked right, and launched a swarm of missiles from their wings.

The sky lit up as jets met dragons, and missiles contested dragon fire.

Harry took off down the street as a dragon launched itself on the canopy of a jet. They went into a freefall and Harry didn't stop to look as a horrendous crash followed by the sound of an explosion thundered behind him. He and Reed Richards were going to have a long talk about science, and how experiments should be at one hundred percent before he went along with it.

He jumped over wreckage and had to breathe through his mouth to filter out the stomach turning smell of cooked flesh and smoke. He ignored the bodies in his wake as best he could. He skidded to a halt as he came around a corner. Before him a group of survivors were fleeing before a descending platoon of hulking creatures. They wore only the barest scraps of leather to cover their pale green forms. Their hair was matted and blood was in their hungry eyes, as the closed in on their prey.

_Hobgoblins._ Harry thought with a start. He'd never actually seen one outside of textbooks from History of Magic. Hermione had once described them as the menacing, larger and stronger form of common goblins. They delved deep into the Earth and made it their home after the Goblin-Wizard Hundred Year War. Their skin was resistant against most spells and curses yet their weakness lay in the elemental spells, since living under the Earth prevented them from building up a resistance to such things.

Harry sprinted forward passing the group of fleeing survivors. Once between the attackers and their prey, he waved his hand with a swift gesture. The street detonated as if a bomb was planted beneath the concrete. Stone spires ruptured from the ground, piercing and skewering countless hobgoblins, as they blasted upwards. If they escaped being speared by the giant stone spikes, the debris rushing at high speeds surely nailed them.

A teenage boy and older woman stopped running, drawing their wands to come to his aid. Harry shook his head, snapping out, "Go! Run while you can!"

They hesitated but ultimately were cowed by the aura of power that surrounded Harry in that moment. The hobgoblins picked themselves up, and the noise had drawn another platoon of monstrous beasts to their location.

"Looks like its going to be that type of day," he growled.

Harry's fingers wrapped around a parking meter, and then with his phoenix enhanced strength ripped it out of the ground like it was a blade of grass. It was ill balanced. The center of gravity leaned toward the bottom where a mound of concrete clung to its end. It would do. He ran forward at a clip and clubbed a hobgoblin that jumped ranks to maul him.

Brain matter went sailing as the pole shredded though his skull like tissue paper. He twirled the pole in a single spin and the bits flicked off the end. He settled into a stance as the throng saw him finally for the threat that he was. _That was fine,_ he thought as they rushed forward. He was going to make them regret not running the other direction. Green eyes settled on the approaching creatures and they promised no mercy.

The wizard waded through the swarm, pole weapon swinging sometimes like a baseball ball then a staff. He did a quick spin on his heel, burying the pole end in the collar bone of a hobgoblin whose claws ripped out a good chunk of flesh from his back. Growling, he pushed the pain to the back of his mind and kept moving before the others could land another good hit.

He was momentarily surprised to learn his battle cries acted like a phoenix song. At the sound goblins faltered in their attacks or hesitated as his voice sent a note of fear straight into their hearts. He didn't question it, and was ultimately thankful for the surprise gift. Harry took advantage of it making his hits as fatal as possible, advancing forward in a run before bodies even fell to the concrete.

He cut a path through the mass of skinwalkers just like that, striking fast and hard, pressing their defense by speed and strength. A fist caught him in the side of the head, and in his brief daze his makeshift weapon was snatched from his hands. Claws ripped into him and a kick sent him reeling backward.

Harry rolled to his feet gesturing his arms at the same time. A cement truck and a fire engine heeded his silent summons and levitated into the air. The hobgoblins didn't see it coming. Harry clapped his hands and the vehicles mimicked his hands, colliding together like two magnets of opposite charge, with the platoon caught in the middle. Blood splattered outwards in all directions, the effect resembling a smashed packet of ketchup.

"That's unpleasant," he murmured, watching as the cars dropped from the air. The mess the bodies left was almost unrecognizable.

Unfortunately that wasn't the last of the creatures. The few that managed to survive picked themselves up as more of their inhuman brethren came from who knows where to join the party. Harry cracked his neck as he saw the growing number. Obviously not fans of a fair fight. So be it. At least he was making his training count for something.

He threw back his arm like he was preparing to pitch a curve ball. Under his breath he furiously began to incant the charm known as Winters Kiss. It was a spell invented in Canada, and from what he knew it was the strongest freezing charm in the world. The spell generated a subzero temperature that was normally used to rapidly freeze lakes for ice skating. His present application was definitely not its intended use.

Pressurized air gusted from his palm, and he dragged his arm back and forth into the incoming mass. Ice overtook their skin as the front lines turned to ice blocks mid run. Those lucky enough to avoid the spell ran right over their frozen brethren, and like the ice statues they now were, they shattered in a spray of ice and congealed blood. Harry was forced to cut the charm as ice eventually crept along his own fingers from the the spell's backlash.

He turned his head as the sound of distant rumbling grew closer. Hobgoblins poured from the south end of the street and Harry swore mentally. The fight went from unfair to virtually overkill, and they weren't even using weapons. They wanted to rip him apart with their bare hands. He had the claw marks and already purpling bruising to prove it.

Harry was forced to go on the defensive as they came at him on all sides. He slipped into the mental state conditioned into him as he went into killing mode. Harry's body blurred as he moved. Every hit and motion served a purpose. A hand gripped his neck and he grabbed the wrist and forearm, twisted his upper body, hip throwing the goblin that assailed him. A foot in the throat crushed its windpipe. He kicked the body and it flipped into the air and knocked down the line of approaching attackers. Harry reeled back from a punch to the face, and then his left foot came up in a sharp kick. He felt the sternum give and the goblin staggered back, falling backward into the horde.

The hobgoblins suddenly swelled and he jumped back, higher and more agile than he would have pre training. A door ripped from the burning wreckage of a Volkswagen nailed him in the peak of his jump. He fell directly on his shoulder and bit his tongue as his shoulder dislocated with an awful pop. Burning fire exploded in his leg as a spear stabbed him in the calf a split second later.

"_Impedimenta!" _He spat, snapping his arm up.

There was a flash of light in the air before him, and space in a five meter area slowed as if the gears of time malfunctioned. The spell affected the entire horde and their movements slowed to a crawl. Harry ripped the spear from his leg and muttered a healing spell that basically slowed the bleeding. It was a patch job, but it would hold till his healing factor took care of the rest. Harry launched the spear skewering the closest goblin. The force of the momentum carried the creature back into the mob.

Harry rose to his feet and jumped on the goblin to his immediate right. His weight carried them to the ground as he rained a flurry of blows to the face. Harry rolled to his feet as the spell ended, and time returned to full speed with a jarring abruptness. He grabbed a goblin by the back of its neck like a misbehaving child, if that child was almost six feet tall and full of steroids.

With a grunt of effort, Harry gave a jerk and ripped out the hobgoblin's spine. It dripped blood and spinal fluid as he snapped it through the air like some sick macabre whip. The bony weapon slashed against the swarm closing the distance of the circle of death surrounding him. Ultimately the weapon shattered against their tough hide after a few hits.

Harry blew against his open palm summoning forth the Cursed Fire. Fiendfyre gathered in his palm as he witnessed Voldemort do all those years ago in the Ministry of Magic. The portion of phoenix inside him crowed at the fiery power, rising up inside him like a sentient being. The flame jumped as the phoenix power spurned it to even greater heights. Shock hit him as the fire burst outwards, expanding about him like he was an accelerant. The fiendfyre wrapped around his body like a warm cocoon. He became a burning tower as the heat of the flame scorched the pavement and liquefied goblins that came near. They met their deaths in a flash of red and orange flames and they dropped to the ground, dead.

His rage and adrenaline fed the pillar of fire that the phoenix sang to even greater heights. It sparked higher in the air in a roaring blaze. Harry clasped his hands together, intricately twisting his fingers, feeling his magic hum in response. The inferno abruptly flared, forming into a flaming phoenix with its wings outstretched in a defiant pose of fury. Its beak opened singing a haunting note of death, and with a hand movement it flew forward.

The phoenix of flame soared through the mass of hobgoblins covering the streets. They challenged the flamebird with bold attacks, throwing their might against the fire construct. They didn't stand a chance. Their attacks dissipated against the songbird made of fiendfyre given form. Harry threw his arms up and the phoenix whipped through their numbers, setting the ground ablaze as it surged forward, burning the dark creatures to ash in an endless echo of dying screams.

The phoenix sang a triumphant string of notes and then dissipated as the fire surrounding Harry sputtered and faded away. He stumbled back as his the phoenix power settled to normal levels, as its overpowering presence was apparently satisfied. Harry rubbed at his chest, stunned. _What the hell._ That had never happened before. He surveyed the smoking street and the unrecognizable mass of corpses.

"Duck!" a voice shouted from over his head.

A fob watch hit the ground next to a hobgoblin that climbed to its feet. The watch face flipped open and there was a burst of light from the innards of the clock. A ray of blue light surged upward and fell over the goblin in a dome, or a shield of some kind by the looks of it. There was a snap of noise and electricity ignited within the half sphere like the inside of a Van de Graaff generator. Megawatts of electricity pumped into the goblin and its painful screams rose in crescendo as the currents slammed into his body, sending him flailing around like a broken back snake.

Harry looked behind him, then up. A woman hovered on a broom, the breeze catching her braided red hair. Wrinkles shone around her eyes and there was a burn mark near her right ear, but there was no mistaking those eyes, or that face. Harry gazed upon Lily Potter, fully alive and breathing, who stared right back at him with increasing confusion.

"James," she murmured, sounding a bit dazed. She shook her herself and came to her senses. "Sorry. I thought… grab my hand. Quickly now, that enchantment won't hold much longer."

Harry grabbed the offered hand and swung himself on the broom behind her. He held on tight as she rocketed off. They kept low to skyline well away from the fight in the sky that was in its last throes if the fewer number of combatants was telling.

"Where are we going?" shouted Harry over the blowing wind.

Lily barely turned her head, keeping her eyes forward. "I'm meeting my partner. We're both Phoenix Order. I'm Lily by the way, Lily Potter."

"Harry," he returned simply, idly wondering if the Phoenix Order was some offshoot Order of the Phoenix group. "How'd you find me?"

"Phoenixers are gathering up survivors. You're the only one I've run into and it's been almost an hour." She banked hard and then went into a steep dive that took them toward the streets till she pulled up out of it in a controlled follow through. He had to admit it was a nice bit of flying. "The question I should be asking is what's a sorcerer doing out here by yourself. Dumbledore rounded all you up earlier."

_Sorcerer. _Harry frowned at the term. He didn't think he was one. Dumbledore had been the Grand Sorcerer in his world, but that title was bequeathed to him after his feats of magic made him a living legend within his own lifetime.

"I'm not a sorcerer."

Lily chuckled humorlessly and said disbelievingly, "You couldn't be anything else with the way you were slinging out magic. Did you not hear the call? Are you on the run?"

Harry shook his head, deciding to just play along. "I didn't get a call."

That was the truth at least.

Lily dipped the broom forward and he barely saw a sign that proclaimed the street 33rd before they went zipping through the stairwell that led down into the underground subway. He held on tight as she turned a corner fast, flying through the platform and down into the train tunnels. Her wand tip glowed, acting as a single headlight, as she flew through the tunnels of the Manhattan subway.

"He should be just ahead," she mumbled to herself or Harry, he really wasn't sure. "There they are."

Sure enough they slowed closing in on a huddled group of sad looking survivors, gathered together a meter away from the tracks. Lily came to a halt and Harry jumped off, while she slid elegantly from the broom like she did it everyday. A man broke away from the dozen or so group of people. Harry's breath caught as Sirius Black sauntered forward with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He looked haggard and tired, but nowhere near the sorry state Harry had once witnessed after his Azkaban breakout.

"Lily," he said, gripping her shoulders and pulling her into a hug.

Harry's eyes widened as he counted a least six beats as the hug extended beyond just friends territory. He awkwardly looked away as they shared a look that was soft and tender, and all kinds of inappropriate for friends. Sirius finally took notice of Harry standing behind Lily, watching the ground with a too interested stare. The blue eyed wizard stilled and his face paled as he gaped at Harry.

"James," he whispered, disbelievingly. "Prongs…"

Harry took a step forward into the circle of light. "Sorry but the names Harry."

"Sorry," Sirius apologized quickly, running a tired hand through his hair. "I thought you were a friend of mine... He died this morning when England was scorched."

Lily laid a hand on his arm, smiling sadly. "I thought it was him too… He's gone. He was at the Ministry when the nuke went off. London was ground zero."

"I know, Lily," he sighed. "Just give me a minute." Sirius dragged a hand down his face. "Where did you find him?"

"He was actually fighting against the hobgoblins."

Sirius frowned, staring between the woman and Harry. "And he's still alive?"

"You didn't let me finish," said Lily, hitting his arm. "There was nothing but dead bodies around him. He's a sorcerer. Somehow he missed the call."

Sirius shrugged. "Some sorcerer not registered in the system is the least of our worries. We have to get these survivors to Dumbledore. Word is the old man has a plan."

"The last time I saw him he was muttering about Adam, Eve, Lilith and something about the bloodlines. That was after he got us out of England."

"Excuse me," a girl said butting in. "But some of don't have a fucking clue what's happening and you two seem to be full of answers. Care to enlighten the crowd why the world's going to hell in a hand basket?"

She was a small thing, maybe seventeen or eighteen. Blond hair was cut short and styled with pink highlights. Her arm was in a makeshift sling crafted from a torn shirt. Small stature or not she glared at the two Phoenix Order members with frustrated and frightened brown eyes. Frightened no doubt of what the future held now that her whole world was gone.

Lily traded a glance with Sirius. The crowd of survivors wasn't all fit to make a stand behind the girl but they showed their support with their expressions alone. They moved closer to the group so they could hear more clearly, and then Lily began her version of events.

"Seven o'clock this morning, England time, Albus Dumbledore heard a vision from a Divination professor at the school. It was a warning that Voldemort had aligned himself to demons of the old world, and by the end of the night blood will cover the Earth—"

An older woman in her early fifties let out a loud noise of discontent. "You got a lot of crust, honey! Voldemort was killed over twenty years ago. They nuked that snake pit and the whole place burned. I was there, sweetie, I know what I'm talking about."

"Well, _lady_," growled out Lily, glaring icily at the older woman. "My husband died this morning and it sure as hell wasn't the Easter Bunny that did it. Voldemort is back, more powerful than before, and he wants every last man, woman and child dead. No mercy for anyone. His vengeance knows no bounds."

Sirius squeezed her shoulder, stepping protectively to her side. "She's telling the truth. Voldemort is back. He started with the far eastern countries first and is making his way west. Dumbledore managed to gather a group of sorcerers, the Phoenix Order, and a small group of refugees before England became a burn mark on the map."

"What are we going to do?" asked a boy unable to keep the tremor from his voice.

He was maybe twelve or eleven and not entirely human. Harry didn't want to stare but he found it hard not to. The boy was human and something _other_. His ears were pointed and shaped like tree leaves, and his skin had a faint off quality to it. A cast of gray or green that was hard to tell in the dim light. His eyes were the most striking. They were wide, too big for his face, and violet like the freshest flowers of the same name.

"Dumbledore has a plan," answered Sirius. "He sent the Phoenix Order to search for survivors from all over, as many as we could find. I only got the communiqué sent to us a little while ago," Sirius said to Lily's inquiring expression. "But we're supposed to rendezvous at Central Park. Dumbledore has found us sanctuary away from the unkillable psycho."

"Where?" asked the girl, less demanding than before.

Sirius smiled. "Avalon."

Lily let out a short laugh that sounded bitter. "Great. So humanity comes crawling back home with its tail between their legs. Ironic."

"Avalon?" asked the boy.

Lily nodded, bending at the waist to smile at the hybrid boy. "Do you go to church?"

"Not often," he replied softly, ducking his head shyly. "But I know stuff."

"Do you know the story of Adam and Eve, and the Garden of Eden?"

He nodded and said proudly, "That's Genesis!"

She laughed, ruffling his hair. "That's right. That garden is where we're going. Avalon is what we call it. Most people know it as Eden."

Harry had to smile at the sight. It was something right out of his childhood imagination. He always envisioned his mother as the loving woman before him. Pain lingered in her eyes but there was a spirit in her that refused to die.

"How long do we have?" asked Harry, bringing them all back to reality.

Sirius flicked his wand and muttered, _"Tempus!" _The time appeared in a mist of gray that hovered obediently above the tip of his wand. "Two hours and change."

"Do you know how to get there?" asked Lily.

The blond girl stepped forward. "I do. The name is Alice by the way. Born and raised in Brooklyn. We're almost at Grand Central now. All we have to do is follow these tracks north till we go past the terminal, then we hop topside and cross the street to the park."

"That's going to be difficult," muttered Sirius, rubbing his chin. "The sorcerers currently have the park warded off. While it's keeping out nasties, it also has the side effect of drawing a giant bull's eye on that position. I can't imagine how many soldiers are at the edge of wards trying to break through now. We'll be slaughtered as soon as we go topside."

"Solutions not negatives, Sirius," scolded Lily, her eyes glassy as she stared off thoughtfully.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yes, love."

Harry couldn't help but look at them wonderingly. Lily and Sirius both acknowledged James, and both mourned his lose. Yet they acted like lovers. He didn't want it to be true. To paint such a light on his mother and godfather made his stomach turn, but the answer was staring him in the face. They were lovers and had probably been for some time. Lily was having an affair with her husband's best friend. It wasn't his place to judge, but it was hard not to when the cheaters was wearing the faces of his loved ones.

_Different universe_, he berated his judgmental thoughts, _different universe_.

"I-I think I can help," said the hybrid boy with a soft stutter. "I can make us not be seen, its how I got away earlier."

Lily touched his shoulder and quietly asked, "It's house elf magic right? You're part elf?"

The boy lifted his chin defiantly. "So what, I'm just as human…"

"Shh," she quieted him gently. "No one's going to say anything mean. What's your name, honey?"

"Keith Palmer."

"Are you sure you can do it?"

Keith nodded, determined. "I'm sure. I've been practicing just like Dad said."

"Okay so the plan is Alice will lead us through the subway till we get close to Central Park," said Sirius, assertively. "Then Keith will make us invisible right before we hit the streets. Let's do this. Our window isn't long and we're on foot."

Sirius and Alice took point and Lily and Harry took the end to watch their backs. Sirius was a lot more confident than his version. This man was leading the gaggle of survivors with smooth efficiency. His Sirius would have been back here with him making bad jokes and reminiscing about better times. Harry wondered if James had been as different here too before his death. He looked sideways at Lily who shined her wand light into every passing nook and cranny. The mothering version of Lily he always imagined. This soldier was a different matter altogether.

"You should keep a better eye out instead of watching me," said Lily coolly.

Harry faced her fully, continuing to keep pace with the group. "Do I really look like your husband?"

Her lips pursed into a thin line. It took a half minute before she answered, "You do... You like a younger James. Not exactly but you could pass easily."

"You must've really loved him a lot," said Harry.

Lily teared up and hastily wiped at her eyes and said softly, "Yeah, I did. We've been together since we were teenagers."

"So why exactly are you sleeping with his friend?" he asked, flicking his eyes to Sirius in the lead.

Lily's arm snapped up with her wand aimed directly at his jugular. Harry reacted at the same swiftly snatching the wand from her fingers. Startled confusion turned to irritation.

"My business is my business," she spat quietly, keeping her voice low so the others wouldn't hear.

They continued walking and Harry handed back her wand. It was quiet in the back as they followed the shuffling crowd. It was a long silent four minutes as Lily's agitation faded away replaced by a quiet bitterness.

"I loved that man," she said. "I loved my husband with all my heart. He was my world and has been my everything since we were seventeen. We started having problems and Sirius was there…"

"Okay that's enough," said Harry, his stomach clenching. "I don't need the sordid details."

And who would like to hear that their mom puts out.

She laughed and it lacked any warmth. "You must think I'm a horrible person. I'm in a relationship with my dead husband's best friend."

"I don't," Harry said gently, thinking she must feel guilty enough if her expression was anything to go by. "I don't know you so how can I pass judgment."

He found that it was the truth. He didn't know her or Sirius. He knew of his universe's version, the people they were, or could have been. These people weren't the ones he knew. Every decision and choice they made in their lives was theirs to make, even if they conflicted with his ideals of who these people _could_ be.

"Tell me something about yourself," said Lily, not even being subtle with her change of topics. "You're obviously bright. You picked up on my and Sirius' intimacy. I already know you're a sorcerer. Any reason you're not registered in the system? You're very talented."

"I'm not from here," said Harry.

"You're from one of the oceanic settlements?" she asked, a note of surprise in her eyes.

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it. Telling her that he wasn't from here would lead to questions he really wasn't ready to answer. No doubt she would develop a theory as to why Harry looked like James, and then things would get really awkward. There wasn't time for the drama that would ensue. That was the scenario if she believed him. Universe hopping wasn't something a normal person immediately believed.

"Yeah," he answered, settling on lying. He wouldn't be here long anyway. "I was passing through the city when the wards came up."

Lily sighed. "We're lucky we're still alive. Dumbledore got us out of Scotland right before the nukes went off all over the country."

Harry was about to reply when he heard a distant scrapping noise behind him. Lily saw him stiffen and spun around to shine light into the thick darkness beyond. They froze, listening carefully for the noise again.

"What do you hear, Lily?" asked Sirius, appearing at their side.

Harry could see the group behind them anxiously moving about, frightfully staring into the darkness. There it was again, then again. Large, red glowing eyes pierced the dark. Growls broke the silence and whimpers and frightened murmurs came from the crowd of survivors. Sirius' wand light joined Lily's and together the light broke the veil of dark. Black dogs flickered before the light; their spectral bodies were very real and very huge. Saliva dripped from their jaws and their pack of two dozen slowly stalked forward, intentions clear upon their hungry and ravenous faces.

"Hellhounds?" asked Harry, backing up along with the two wizards.

Sirius shook his head and muttered, "Black Dogs."

"_Incendio!"_ Lily snapped, fire lashing out from her wand and curling through the air. The blaze filled the empty space as if the area was drenched in gasoline. "Run!"

The group took off down the tunnel with the howl of phantom dogs at their backs. Harry racked his brain for what he knew about Black Dogs. They were the basis for the old Grim omens. They were nocturnal specters and where as hellhounds often went after those wanted by Hell, these phantom hounds were freelance and could not directly be killed, only banished by ritual. He had never seen or heard of so many black dogs all in one place. Hearing the story secondhand he would have dismissed it as a hoax, but he was learning this universe's Voldemort was going for a big finish, and he was not a fan of easy death.

They ran with the sounds of howls drifting through the air, and the black dogs at their heels. The fire was a minor inconvenience to them. They jumped through the flames and chased them with increasing speed. Harry launched a Bone Crushing spell and Blasting Curse, but they flew right through their phased states.

"They're gaining on us!" said Lily in between pants.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Sirius cursed, running beside her. He made a decision and looked directly at Lily. "I'll hold them off for awhile. Physical hits can slow them down."

Lily shook her head, green eyes going wide. "What? Sirius no! I'm staying too then!"

"You have to get those people to safety," ordered Sirius. "Do it for me, sweetheart. I'll catch up. I promise." He glanced back at the pack, and then looked at Harry. "Keep them safe, Harry. They'll have better odds with a sorcerer watching their backs."

He tenderly smiled at Lily and with a wink his form rippled and in his place was Padfoot. The dog matched his growl against the howls of the Black Dogs and they bristled at the challenge, hackles rising at the foe standing between their prey.

Lily stopped and Harry grabbed her arm. "Keep going. He's made his decision!"

They dragged their eyes from the sight of Padfoot bounding forward and throwing himself into the middle of the wild pack. Harry pulled a frozen Lily along and they took off. He tried his best to ignore the sounds of fighting behind him. Sirius wouldn't last long against them. That was a given. His sacrifice though would buy them time to make it to the streets.

Reed was taking his sweet time retrieving him. This had gone way beyond a scouting mission. This damn sure wasn't his universe and he wanted out. _Now_.

* * *

The transporter was in the best possible working condition it could be in for the time allotting to fix it. Reed crunched more numbers, making sure it wouldn't blow up in their faces, or level a third of the Triskelion when he activated it. Fury and Rogers entered the lab and surveyed the man hard at work.

"Report, Richards," barked out Fury.

Reed didn't take his eyes off the logs filling the monitors. "I'm ready whenever you are, sir. Everything lights up green."

Fury nodded. "You have a go."

Rogers and Fury watched as Reed did the job of two people as he began to fire up the transporter for the second time today. His arms stretched to either side of the consoles, fingers clicking keys and flipping levers quickly.

"_Diagnostic functions within parameters."  
_"_Quantum network cross-checked with hyper-dimensional matrix."  
_"_Multiuniversal syncing complete."  
_"_Tracking devices omicron-1101A and scarlet-4998B."  
_"_Filtering out quantum resonance signature."  
_"_Lock engaged on signature. Standby for retrieval."_

Reed finished the systems check and they watched as on the monitors a yellow line glowed amongst a sea of wavering green lines. Reed isolated the universe and it zoomed in larger and a set of fluctuating numbers appeared beneath the yellow line.

Rogers shook his head and muttered, "God knows where we sent him."

"Hope it's not a universe where the communists won," said Fury, slyly glancing at Rogers.

Captain America narrowed his eyes at the smirking man. "Don't even joke about that, General."

Reed turned to Fury as his hand hovered over a chrome switch. "General?"

Fury nodded at the man, all traces of humor gone from his face. "Emergency recall _now_."

* * *

Keith dropped whatever house elf magic casted that shielded them from sight. The reappeared as they crossed the wards around Central Park. They made it passed the creatures and sentries without fanfare as the elven magic worked more than successfully.

"Home stretch now," said Harry. He looked at Lily who hadn't said much since they came to the surface. "You okay, Lily?"

Lily shook her head. "Not really." She managed a sorry looking smile. "But now isn't the time for breakdowns."

Alice jogged forward and pointed in the distance as they came upon a pond in the middle of the park. The pond was the main center of focus. However that wasn't the most spectacular sight. Around the pond was hundreds of thousands of people. Not only people but magical creatures stood amongst the humans. The pond glowed deep blue, shining with inner light, as its waves rippled like the stormy sea. People stepped out into the surface and vanished with a pale light within the twisting maelstrom.

The old woman in their group let out a long whistle. "Well isn't that something."

Professor McGonagall and Remus stood with their wand tips glowing red, waving traffic through and directing people to the portal. They went in large groups, one after another, vanishing in light and splashes of water. It made sense. In some cultures water was believed to be a universal conduit. It acted as sort of a transitioning fluid from one plane to another. That was just the myths thrown around in History of Magic, but here it was an actual fact.

"_Please no pushing or skipping_," Professor McGonagall's booming voice cut through the night, amplified by way of a Sonorus charm. "_Don't fight the grip of the transitional current once in the portal, or you'll find yourself missing an arm or leg on the other side_."

Lightning lit up the sky and they gazed up as a luminescent dome shimmered to life, as electric currents raced over its surface. The sky thundered and McGonagall continued urging them to move forward. Their group of survivors went to join the evacuating crowd after profusely thanking them.

Keith turned and threw his arms around Lily's waist. "Thank you."

Her face softened as she smiled into his hair. "Look after yourself. Go on now. They'll help you on the other side."

Keith waved and joined Alice as they were ushered into the departing mass. Going around the pond was a ring of men and women with their hands clasped in prayer. Or it looked like praying. From the way their auras shined cerulean like the wards they had to be the sorcerers powering the shield. Dumbledore with his trademark white hair and beard stood before the ring of sorcerers. Like them his eyes was closed in concentration as he and two others held hands. It was a younger man in his late teens and a middle aged woman. Blood streamed from slashes in their forearms, and trailed down their clasped hands, falling to the earth.

"Blood magic," gasped Harry.

Lily nodded. "Their bloodlines are the three keys to Eden's gates. Magic has nothing to with the portal. Blood is life and their life force is going into keeping the gate open."

"_Merlin's ghost_," Harry swore, staring at the incredible sight of power and energy.

The wind rose in fervor and a there was groan that came from everywhere at once. Heads snapped up as the clouds in the sky thickened, becoming a twisting whirlpool that was reminiscent of the event from earlier. A shape formed in the clouds growing into a huge depiction of a human skull, _the Dark Mark._ The skull's mouth opened and smoke, black and tree trunk thick, poured from the orifice. The shield lit up as the smoke slammed against its walls. It held for a moment then the smoke swelled, and the shield fell in an explosion of light and sound.

"Bloody hell," Lily gasped, readying her wand.

The smoke split into numerous thin clouds shooting down into the foray. Where they landed Mountain trolls appeared shaking off the smoke like clumps of clinging dirt. The sorcerers broke away from maintaining the now useless wards, and ran out in front of the evacuees, hands blazing with magic and fury radiating from their faces.

"Go for the vulnerable points!" a delicate looking sorceress commanded. Right before launching a Cutting Curse that sheered the head clean off a troll's bulky shoulders.

The air became alive as magic met trolls that continued falling from the sky, riding in on their black clouds of smoke like the devil himself. Harry and Lily immediately threw themselves into the thick of things, buying the survivors time to flee. Harry conjured a steel staff with a flick of his wrist. He swung the pole high and cracked it across the skulls of two trolls with one swing.

The line of sorcerers worked on raining down Killing Curses and fireballs into the invading brigades front lines. They fell before green light, dead in their tracks. The fireballs struck with the force of fallen meteorites, slamming into them and turning them into melted husks.

Harry and Lily picked up the slack along with a few brave wizards and witches, attacking those trolls that were coming in at the sides. Harry curled his fingers and lightning coursed between his fingers then sped forward in a sweeping sheet. It slammed into the trolls, currents jumping from body to body, blackening their skin till they turned into convulsing heaps of smoldering flesh.

Lily slashed her wand through the air with long strokes, and at the end of her movements she fired off a Blasting Curse. The spells blasted from her wand accompanied by bangs reminiscent of gunshots. The jets of colorless light flew at the speed of sound, and fatal holes exploded in the trolls gigantic bodies. Chest cavities blew open in a spray of blood and bits of bones, and heads exploded in one spell.

Trolls were strong but speed was never their best attribute. It was a primary reason they never warred with wizardkind before. Whatever Voldemort did to lease their service wasn't worth it, because no matter how strong you were speed always played a key factor in a fight. This was no exception. They slung curses and spells quicker than the trolls could fill holes in their ranks and force their line.

Whole platoons fell under continuous beams of flaming light thrown by the sorcerers. The light swept across the field of trolls, hewing off appendages as it went along. One sorcerer made a fist and slammed his foot into the ground. The earth beneath the trolls erupted in a crystalline jet of molten lava. It shot into the swarm of creatures and covered them in flames, burning them alive.

Harry pointed two of his fingers and focused his power into a Blasting Curse. It split the air in a thin ray of focused power. One of the trolls was pushed in front of the attack by one its comrades to protect their own hide. A smoking crater appeared in its side. Cauterized flesh created by the heat of the spell stopped the bleeding, but the troll was left missing a chunk of its torso and fatally wounded.

A chill appeared on the air carrying with it a haunting feeling of despair. It crawled into the heart and sucked at hope. Harry took a deep breath and cursed when it came out in a visible puff of air. He had seen that effect too many times in his life. _Dementors_.

"We've got incoming!" shouted Lily to her left and right.

From the tree line appeared the hooded wraiths. The floated on the wind like ghostly specters. But they were definitely not ghosts. They were worse. Silver light bathed the night as Patronuses bursts to life to protect their casters. The silvery, ethereal spirit guardians rushed across the grass and stopped the soul predators in their tracks. Dementors slashed at the guardians with power and claws and were forced to break ranks and scatter, as the emotionless creatures couldn't be moved by their very presence like humans.

Harry focused on the day he finished Auror training, and holding on to that feeling of pride, accomplishment and happiness, shouted, "_Expecto Patronum!" _

Three Patronuses jumped through the air. McGonagall was the first to create multiple Patronuses during the Second War, and the Headmistress was quick to teach others. While not as powerful as an individual Patronus, three working simultaneously could cover more ground and defend more people. It was perfect for incursions like this when civilians needed a quick defense. The silvery, semi-transparent stags took off a quick clip overtaking the dementors heading toward Lily and his position.

Some dementors made it through, floating above their heads to snatch up a person from the fleeing crowd. Loved ones were forced to watch with tears in their eyes as a family member or friend was Kissed before their eyes. The dementors greedily sucked down souls and tossed the soulless carcasses down into the mass of evacuees.

"No matter what, hold this line!" Lily shouted, flinging out a glob of green goo from her wand. It splattered against a troll's abdomen vaporizing skin, and causing its lower intestines to dangle out in a steaming coil.

The trolls were making headway with the dementors running interference. They charged forward in a thick mob, surrendering the outer soldiers in favor of protecting those in the middle. The screeching sound of brakes pierced the night and a scorch mark ridden school bus dived from the sky, roughly landing on the ground with a thump, and bulldozing right over the trolls. The door was missing and an auburn haired man about Harry's own age, jumped from the interior brandishing his wand. His Banishing Charm sent a trio of trolls rocketing backward into the air.

"Who's that?" asked Harry, as the boy grinned at Lily and fought his way to their position.

Lily smiled, bright and glowy, and it actually reached her eyes this time. "James Jr. My son."

The man swept back a lock of reddish brown hair and grinned at his mother with brown eyes as he reached their side. "'Lo, Mum. Fancy meeting you here."

"Enchanting a bus to fly, really J.J..." she chided, her smile growing larger. "Your father would be proud."

J.J. smirked and motioned with his head over to the bus. "Don't blame me. That was all Hermione. Ron did the driving."

Harry snapped his eyes to the bus where Ron and Hermione were helping passengers off, and directing them to the small group of refugees still left at the gateway. Hermione's hair was straighter, Ron was a bit broader in the shoulders, but they looked just as he remembered. A nostalgic grin flashed across his face, fleeting and swift.

J.J. snapped his wand toward a blinded troll stomping toward them, blood streaming from its eyes. "_Expelliarmus!"_

Harry watched the creature fly backward and smiled at the familiar spell. He hadn't used that one in a long time. "Nice."

J.J. cocked his head at Harry, cataloguing the familiar facial features but making no comment on his obvious resemblance. "Thanks, uh, we'll have to do the meet and greet thing later."

"As nice as this is, let's keep our eyes on the dark creatures intent on killing us," said Lily, directing her Patronus at a dementor.

They focused on slaughtering as many soldiers that came through their path. Eventually the creatures noticed a circle of devastation existed around the fighting wizards, and their numbers grew less and less. Ultimately they stopped going toward the magic users, as they realized that it equaled death and the wizards mowed them down till they retreated.

Harry glanced behind him to see McGonagall and Remus with only a little over twenty people left at the gateway. It was almost over. The sorcerers were banishing the last of the dementors, and the wizards were cutting down the few trolls that still drew breath.

Clapping filled the air and Lord Voldemort suddenly landed on the ground as if he had been flying. He probably had. The inky black robes were the same worn by his version of the Dark Lord. The face was paler if that was possible, which might have been because his face looked even more snake like. His lips were thinner and blue tinged, nose almost non-existent, and ears were smaller as well. His eyes. Those red eyes were darker, but still gazed around with warring disgust and malevolence. A sudden hush fell over the park.

"It's always amusing when you just don't beg for your lives," said Voldemort, smirking at the bodies littering the ground. He smirk fell and it was eerie the way he switched expressions like a change of hats. "And where do you think you're running off to?"

"Leave us alone," said Lily stepping forward. J.J. reached for her but she shook off his hands, staring hard into the eyes of the Dark Lord. "You wanted genocide, well you got it."

Voldemort sneered at her. "Genocide?" he spat. "I'm above such concepts. This isn't about genocide. This is and always will be about the betterment of wizardkind. This cleansing has created a blank slate. The strong that survive will inherit the Earth. Wizards, all of them, it will be a world filled with magic and only magic."

"I have to say," said Lily, sounding more pissed with each uttered word. A dark hatred shone in her eyes. "You're positively insane. I hope you burn for this, _bastard_."

The Dark Lord jabbed his wand and she lifted into the air. Her eyes widened and instead of screaming she murmured one word and one word only, "Sirius." With a sharp flick of his wand, her head twisted hard to the right. Her neck snapped with a sickening crack, and abruptly her body crumbled on the ground in a tangle of lifeless limbs.

"_Mum!"_ J.J. shouted, falling to his knees beside his mother.

J.J.'s face was white with shock as he stared unblinkingly at his mother's lifeless body. Harry was beyond shock. For the second time in his life he watched his mother die at the hands of the same man. Rage flared through him like a scalding wave, tightening his shoulders, his arms, spilling into his hands. It had been awhile since he'd felt rage so quickly and so completely.

He didn't apparate. Fire burst to life around him in a wreath of red hot flames. For the first time Harry teleported as a phoenix would in a flash of fire. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared behind Voldemort. He flexed his fingers and conjured a sword to his hand.

Three things happened at once. Voldemort turned as he felt the disturbed air behind him, surprise flashed across his face at seeing the man once before him now covered in flames promising death. Harry's sword whipped through the air, as simultaneously both bracelets on his wrists glowed white.

Voldemort called on power.

Harry was enveloped in white light.

The sword phased through Voldemort's neck as it and its conjurer were broken down at the subatomic level and shifted from local time and space, slipping from the universe in one stroke.

Taking advantage of Vodemort's lapse of attention, Hermione and Ron yanked J.J. from his mother's body and dove into the gateway, followed by McGonagall and Remus who were the last ones through. The maelstrom of twisting energy died, and the waters stilled as the pond returned to its normal state.

The male and female beside Dumbledore collapsed to their knees and then fell over, gasping in panted breaths as life as well as blood bled from them. Dumbledore fell to a knee, and it was only because he was conditioned to large feats of power that he wasn't in worst shape like the other two. He slowly rose to his full height, feeling the action take more out of him than normal.

The prophecy as predicted by Sybil Trelawney had come to pass and he was indeed the last of three and the dying of the light. At least the last of humanity was safe from further harm. The gateway was closed and would stay that way with his death. None of those that escaped knew the true extent of how Voldemort rose to such heights again after decades of absence. While he only knew of half it, that half was enough to make him apprehensive for any lingering survivors.

He didn't have much longer for this world. His fate was sealed.

He would make sure that his final moments weren't wasted. He gathered his power to him, readying his wand in his hand as he prepared for one last duel. His face was pale, every wrinkle showing prominently, but his eyes were just as bright and determined as ever. The air crackled as his aura became a visible sight to be awed at, even in its weakened and dying state.

Voldemort noticed the Headmaster wasn't done and red eyes glared at his old teacher. "Still alive, old man?"

"Poor, Tom. Mother seduced his father and died during childbirth," said Dumbledore in an acerbic tone. "His father wants nothing to with him and life is _so_ very hard. Talented wizard, prefect, Head Boy." He shook his head, making a disparaging noise. "Any sympathy I felt for you died with the world. I'm no match for you now, but I will make you feel _pain_."

Voldemort glared, hand tightening against his wand's handle. "I would expect nothing less. It started with me and you."

Dumbledore raised his wand, nodding. "And it will end with us."

* * *

"_Erecting secondary shields!"_

Harry shook on the platform and the fire died, as the sword fell from his hand. The conjured blade clattered to the ground and vanished back into the ether. The shields dropped once the flames dissapated. Harry shakily stepped from the platform.

He glared at Reed. "Took your time didn't you?"

Harry looked around the room and then the last several hours caught up to him. The non stop fighting and magic slinging had taken its toll on his body, and he took another shaky step before he toppled over.

"We need a medical team in here!" Fury shouted, and a team sprinted into the room in no less than six seconds after his call.

The team of medics rattled off medical terms, as they worked over Harry. One turned to Fury. "He's alive. His readings are stable, although a bit weak. His whole body is covered in fresh bruises and some that are in the last stages of healing. He's got cracked ribs, a torn calf muscle, and a possible concussion. We know he has a healing factor, but we're going to keep him overnight in the infirmary. His healing factor may be hindered since he's suffering from severe exhaustion."

"Keep me up to date," said Fury, watching as they lifted him on a medical bed. "I want to know the minute he's awake."

The medic nodded. "Yes, sir."

He rushed out of the room after the medical bed, following his team. Fury and Rogers shared a stare and the General then turned to Reed. "I want the data from the logs on my desk before you leave, Richards. And I want every piece of this machine disassembled. This room will be cleaned out come tomorrow."

Reed gaped at the SHIELD director. "General Fury don't you think that's a bit much? Think of what we could learn! There's still so much we still don't know. We don't know for certain something can track us back to our universe. You're being paranoid."

Fury smiled coldly at the man. "Paranoid is my job. I get paid to prevent worst case scenarios so people like you can still keep thinking of what they can learn next. Follow orders Richards, or I'll have someone else do it. Do you get me?"

"I get you, _sir,_" Reed snapped out, glaring as the man turning sharply and left the room. He looked at Rogers the fight leaving his shoulders at once, as he pleaded, "Please, Captain. You have to talk reason into him."

"The General's right. You've seen parts of his files. Whoever or whatever did that to him, I don't want to run into. Who knows if they could track him here, or what if they think we sent him as some kind of weapon." He held up his hand to forestall the scientist's retort. He mustered an apologetic smile. "Plus, it's dangerous just having that technology. Dismantle it, Richards. For all our sakes."

"Wait," Reed called, stopping the blond man mid-exit. "What about getting Potter home? We won't be able to try further attempts."

Rogers turned around. "You said it yourself. That world was our best shot, obviously that wasn't it. It looks like he'll be stuck here."

He turned back around exiting the room as it filled with the sounds of Reed dismantling the transporter, taking with it the possibility of finding Harry's universe using technology created by one of the smartest men in the world.

* * *

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. I wanted to break this up but I decided not to, since I haven't updated this story last october. So this is an extra long chapter. I can't promise that all of them will be this length but they'll be pretty long. I do intend to continue this, and I hope that the wait was worth it.

Once again this is the Ultimate Universe of Marvel so if something comes up that's different from what you expect, its because this is a different universe than regular Marvel continuity. As far as timelines goes, this takes place right before the Ultimates Vol. 2: Homeland Security.


	3. The Fork in the Road

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. For better of worse that belongs to JK Rowling. The Ultimates and everything within the Ultimate Marvel Universe belongs to Marvel Comics. Which I don't own either. If I did I would retire at the age of twenty three.

* * *

**Project M.**  
Chapter Three: _The Fork in the Road_  
By: Water Mage

.

Harry awoke to the sounds of beeps. They were steady and unfamiliar, rhythmic. He followed the thin lines attached to his wrist across and over to the machine they hooked up to. The heart monitor and IV bag were enough clues for him to fill in the blanks. Another hospital room. _Great._ He took a glance out the window that covered a good portion of the wall opposite the door. The familiar sight of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s impressive facility stretching across the island dominated the view. So he was still at the Triskelion. He couldn't decide if that was a good thing or bad thing.

He lay in a distant haze with the soft continuous beeping acting as a sort of metronome. Stark images of burned out carcasses and rains of fire and blood soaked streets played behind his eyelids. The screams of the dying echoed in his ears, mixing and flowing into the steady sounds of _beep beep beep._ A nurse entered and then quickly left, the door barely sliding closed before a doctor took her place. He checked over Harry, his words a drone of sound like a barely heard song. He watched him blankly silently tracking his movements, offering him nothing but an emotionless stare when pressed for answers.

The door opened again and Steve Rogers walked in wearing his all green service uniform. The doctor stepped closer to the man, speaking in a hushed tone and gesturing at the chart in his hand. Rogers clapped him on the back and politely dismissed him after the report.

Harry turned his head as the door slid closed, piercing the captain with a sharp stare. "Send me back."

Rogers shook his head and said, "I'm afraid that'll be impossible."

"Why not," Harry snapped. "You sent me there so send me back... You don't understand— there's people dying there."

Glassy green eyes frozen in death burned in his mind.

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Rogers, sounding like he truly meant it. "It really is impossible. The transporter's been dismantled and all transdimensional projects have been shut down until further notice."

"Why?" Harry demanded, abruptly sitting up.

Rogers looked at him pointedly. "Let me shine some light on a few things for you. You've been unconscious for a little less than forty eight hours. Your healing factor was stretched repairing all that damage. For good or bad you're a by product of SHIELD engineering, and anything that can take out one of ours puts us on alert. High alert."

"Covering your own backside is that it?" Harry asked, a harsh frown overcoming his expression. _Keep them safe, Harry_, Sirius' last words whispered into his thoughts like the murmur of the wind.

The soldier straightened, blue eyes going flat. "If it protects this world, then yes. SHIELD is the first line of defense against hazards and we'll intervene in any way to insure we do our job. Can you say with certainty that whatever messed you up can't follow you here?"

Harry averted his eyes from that penetrating stare. Once upon a time he might have said yes, Voldemort was powerful but he couldn't jump universes. It was impossible to even fathom. Insane and idealist, yes –that was the Voldemort he was used to. The Dark Lord he had personally taken out.

This alternate Voldemort was something that had crawled forth from the deepest pit of Hell. More inhuman than human, he brought his full anger to bear and decimated the planet in one genocidal campaign. Human and wizardkind didn't know what hit them till they were brought to their knees. Honestly, Harry wasn't sure what that Voldemort _couldn't _do.

"No," he breathed out, looking out the window lost in thought. "I can't say. That Voldemort was different, maybe he'd made more horcruxes… "

In a flash of memory, Harry saw the truth. He remembered a somber Lily recounting the world's fate to a group of dazed survivors -- _Voldemort's aligned himself to demons of the old world, and by the end of the night blood will cover the Earth._

That could only mean this Voldemort hadn't just split his soul, but he exchanged pieces of it too. If he truly aligned with the demons of eons gone by they would demand no other price for leasing their power. Those _things_ were older than old, the first dark creatures birthed by magic and twisted by the harsh environment of the then primitive planet. Slumbering beneath the Earth they were the things in dreams that terrify, and all the tales and folklore about demons and devils originated in their hidden halls.

"You're right," Harry agreed, reflecting on unseeing green eyes and cities bombed to hell. "I can't go back there… There's nothing left anyway."

Rogers stare softened and something like understanding shone in his eyes. "What happened there?"

"A lot of people died," Harry sighed. "It was awful and it was bloody. One man led a genocide that basically turned into a damn Armageddon. It was endgame and there was less than a hundred thousand people left standing." He looked down at his clenched fists, renewed fury threatening to explode outward. "I tried to help. Merlin almighty, I was _this_ close to taking off that bastard's fucking head."

The anger and frustration coming from him was so strong that Rogers felt a sense of empathy with him. He knew that hard knot of emotion swelling up inside. It was resentment from seeing a fight left unfinished, a war left unfought – victory hanging in the balance. Yeah, he'd been there.

"Do you think this guy will be looking for revenge?" asked Rogers. "What are the chances of him tracking you and bringing his crap down on us?"

He left nothing of himself behind that could lead back to him by magic. He didn't state his full name not even once. If that neo Dark Lord wanted to find Harry then he would need to search so deeply through the abyss that he would lose himself before even locating him.

Harry licked his lips and said thoughtfully, "The possibility is close to zero."

"But not zero?"

Holding the man with an even stare, Harry admitted, "No. Not zero. He was impossibly powerful. Stronger than the man I'm used to."

Rogers tilted his head. "So you know this guy in your universe? Sounds like a real piece of work."

_Understatement_. "You have no idea. Where I'm from we stopped him for good. These people weren't so lucky." Harry pushed the bitterness away and instead asked, "I'm here for good aren't I?"

The soldier hesitated for a beat and then nodded. "It looks that way. They ran the numbers and the risk of a dimensional incursion due to mulitverse exploration is too high. Hell, we could've sent you to a universe that saw you as a biological weapon. We can't bring those kinds of unknowable threats to our doorstep. Especially with what you are—"

Harry arched an eyebrow, confused. "And what am I, Captain?"

Rogers held him with a quiet gaze. "It's what we both are. You're a Person of Mass Destruction. You don't need a weapon. You _are_ a weapon. You're a force of devastation all on your own."

Locking eyes Harry saw all of what Rogers didn't… or couldn't say aloud – they're walking disasters, a breathing nightmare. He was an arsenal of doom. Harry understood all of this and more. Rogers jaw clenched and he looked away, moving so he faced the window turning his back to the wizard.

"Is that what they call you?" asked Harry, sitting up and causing the blanket to drop down to his thighs.

A chuckle left the man, yet he still didn't turn around. "Not to my face. But it's true and I make no apologies for it."

Harry knew the writhing storm he could unleash. His enemies had lain broken beneath his feet then in that other universe. He could remember them coming in waves and they all crashed against him like the rock in a stream. SHIELD didn't just turn him into a weapon but a soldier of ruin, a damn living calamity.

"When can I get out of here?"

Rogers turned and the corner of his lip lifted up into a wry smile. "Anytime you want. That healing factor's got you back in top shape. A nurse can show you to the quarters' that's been arranged for you."

Harry stilled, narrowing his eyes. "Let's get one thing clear. I'm not about to be locked up here, you got it?"

"No ones locking you up," Rogers stated honestly. "I imagine General Fury will be the one to run over your options with you. You're not a prisoner here."

Relief made Harry relax his shoulders and he managed a short nod. "Good. Look, it's not that I don't get you're a good guy and all, but SHIELD hasn't done me any favors."

Rogers ran a hand through his blond hair and sighed. "I understand what you're feeling. Don't think we're all like those guys that did this to you. They're honest people here and we do good work..." His watch beeped and he glanced at it briefly and pressed a button to shut it off. "I'm late for an appointment so a nurse will show you to your room. I'll catch up with you later."

They exchanged nods and the captain left the room leaving Harry to his thoughts.

.

"Think he's being truthful?"

The question came just as Rogers took a seat in the curved plastic chair. General Fury sat on the opposite side of the mahogany desk, staring thoughtfully at the monitor attached to the wall. The screen's image was of the room Rogers had just left. A nurse moved across the screen, coming to Harry's side and helpfully detached the lines that connected him to the machines. Her lips moved in a soundless chatter and Harry watched her, occasionally nodding or halfheartedly shrugging.

Rogers crossed his arms, sending his superior a shrewd look. "Spying, General?"

"Please, I'll pretend that was rhetorical," replied Fury, rolling his eye. Even with the other covered by an eye-patch the action didn't lack its punch. "What's your assessment of him, Captain?"

He leaned back in the seat, taking a long moment to think. "He didn't show any outward signs of lying, like vocal changes or bodily moments. He's guarded though but that's expected, all things considered."

"Goddamn shadow ops," Fury growled. "Shit happens more often than anyone likes."

"I think he's telling the truth on everything so far," said Rogers. A half smile tugged at his lips. "He reminds me of myself after I woke up after the freeze."

Fury regarded him warily. "I can see that—both of you were taken from everything you knew without warning… Still, Rogers, don't go getting too close until we know for sure he won't snap."

"You think he would?" asked Rogers, frowning.

"He's been through a lot in a short time," said Fury. "He really hasn't had a real opportunity to process it all. I just want to be sure we don't have a time bomb on our hands." He flipped open a folder on the desk, shuffling through the stack of papers inside. "Have you had time to review all this? The shit they put that kid through was insane. He's like the bastard result of the Super Soldier Project crossed with Weapon X."

"Enhanced physical abilities, durability, tactical knowledge and regenerative healing factor," Rogers supplied, skimming through the page Fury pushed toward him. "Surgical implants to enhance unknown bioenergy."

"You see why I'm cautious," said Fury, smirking. "Kid's a demolition man. It'll take a lot to put him down if he goes rogue."

Rogers shook his head. He had a feeling and he doubted if he was wrong. "I really don't think he will."

"I hope you're right," sighed Fury. "We already have a potential dimensional incursion to worry about. I have the boys downstairs on constant surveillance doing sensor sweeps across the globe. Any EU entering our universe we will instantly know about and we'll deal with it."

Blue eyes lit up as Rogers smiled. "I bet Tony would love for that to happen. He's been itching to try out that new armor."

"The thing cost millions to build," said Fury wryly. "You'd think one suit was enough but he keeps finding excuses to make a new upgraded model."

The other man laughed. "Prototypes he calls them."

"Prototypes my ass," said the General. "If his sexual exploits weren't reported in every gossip rag I'd say he was overcompensating."

Rogers looked past Fury and out through the row of floor to ceiling windows that made up the back wall. The man made island that supported the Triskelion spilled out in all directions, each facility structured in such an ultra modern style that sometimes it skewed with his senses. No matter what era he was in now, he was still a byproduct of the 40's.

"I've spoken to Jan and Hank Pym recently since the Hulk encounter, as well as Tony, when they're not doing PR work, that is. Thor's been a little harder to pin down. I know we only recently recruited him but the Ultimates are a team. I don't need one member off doing God knows what till there's a Level two or damn near a Level one emergency before they decide to saunter to the plate."

Fury pretended he had an itch to hide his growing smile behind his hand. "We're lucky we even have him on the team. Don't worry about him. He's probably off in a forest somewhere with his hippy groupies singing kumbaya." He let out a theatrical sigh. "And he wonders why we don't take his being a god BS seriously."

"I've been meaning to ask about this 'son of Odin' matter," admitted Rogers. "Does he really believe he's Thor, the god of thunder?"

Fury shrugged. "That's his claim. He's got a big powerful hammer and can throw lightning around like nobody's business. Plus, he just _knows_ things, you know? On the other hand…"

"On the other hand what?"

"There's the history of mental illness. Before the Odinson stuff he was an ex-nurse by the name of Thorlief Golmen. He had a nervous breakdown three weeks short of his thirtieth birthday and spent eighteen months in a lunatic asylum. After that he started to appear everywhere, with his tours and self help books. "

"All of which has made him millions that he donates to charity," said Rogers. "I watch the news."

Fury nodded. "You heard right. You ask Thor and he'll tell you he's a God made man, the living incarnation of a Norse thunder deity sent here by his father in Valhalla to prevent us from damning ourselves to oblivion."

"That's his side," said Rogers, sounding completely and utterly amused. "What do you think?"

The General grinned. "I say as long as he's above money and only cares about bettering mankind, I'll accept his word as gospel. We get him for free and that's A-okay for my budget."

The soldier gestured at the monitor. "What about him?"

"We can't send him home so he's stuck here. What comes after that…" Fury made a thoughtful noise, tapping a finger against the desk's edge. "That depends on him."

"What are you planning, General?" asked Rogers, studying the man.

General Fury spread his hands out, his lips tugged up at the corner into a smirk. "What makes you think I have something planned?"

Rogers leveled with him a look. "You always have plans within plans."

"I'm the man," Fury said slyly, shrugging one shoulder.

That part was very true. Nick Fury wasn't chosen for director of S.H.I.E.L.D. based on his winning personality. His mind approached scenarios from multiple angles. He was an exceptional combatant and strategist. Nobody but God knew all the plans the man kept under lock and key.

.

The suite was decorated with cream furniture and the walls were coated a soft teal. Soft light shined from slim disks protruding from the corners of the room, each disk stacked on top of the other in an unusual ladder of lights leading from floor to ceiling. Harry took a seat on the bed, lying back with his hands tucked behind his head acting as a pillow.

Thoughts cycled through his head in a sick slideshow of blood, pulsating flesh and dying whispers. It had been a long time since he had seen so much death. Even then never on such an enormous scale and with such unparalleled destruction. There was war then there was extermination. It had been the end of the world in every definition of the phrase.

There was nothing he would like more than to go back to that place and rip Voldemort's freakish head from his shoulders. Revenge boiled in his gut this close to spilling over and choking him. But he was here and never could go back there.

He didn't trust these people. It was the same organization that held him like a lab rat. Unsanctioned shadow project or not, they operated through the same government channels. If he charmed his hearing no doubt he would pick up the subtle working of electronic circuitry hidden in places around the room. Odds were the room was bugged. They probably had a team watching him now with one hand on the panic button, wondering if this was the minute he would snap.

He was so tired of this place, this universe. All he wanted to do was go home and that option was lost to him.

Harry closed his eyes waiting for the darkness to take over. The feeling of vertigo was a dizzying and forbidding sensation that made him feel trapped as he lost himself somewhere between mind and body. When he opened his eyes he's greeted to a sight that brought a light smile to his face.

Red and gold were the primary colors that decorated the circular room. The window showed the sprawling grounds of Hogwarts under a twilight sky. He caught a flash of brown hair before arms wrapped around his body squeezing him tight.

He breathed in deep, smiling down into a pair of brown eyes. "Miss me?"

"Don't give me that coy smile, Harry Potter," said Hermione, her eyes narrowed. "I'm not one of your fangirls. You're lucky to be alive!"

Ron leaned against the couch and sent Harry an exasperated look, miming a wand spelling him in the face. "Oh, lay off him, Hermione! You're worse than my mum, honestly."

Hermione glared at Ron. "Do you have a heart? Your friend just escaped death for the countless time."

Ron smiled so hard Harry could see the back of his molars. "I know and it was bloody brilliant. Really working at putting that _boy who lived_ title to the test, mate."

"Once again Harry Potter gives death the finger."

Hermione rolled her eyes as they laughed. She stalked off to the study table and picked up a book and buried her face in it pointedly ignoring them. Harry and Ron shared a look, smiling. For a moment it was almost blissfully easy to forget that he was in his own head and that all of this wasn't real.

Harry looked around. "Where is…he?"

Hermione looked up from her book and she and Ron met eyes. She cleared her throat and pointed to the stairs that led up to the boys dorms. She didn't look particularly happy.

"He's been up there since you got back from that other universe," explained Hermione. "He didn't like being reined in after you let him loose."

"Too bad," replied Harry, pulling up a chair at the table. "It's my mind he's in and my body, so he can just shove off."

Ron made a noise of agreement. "I told the psycho that. Fucker almost took my head off. He can stay up there and rot for all I care."

Hermione closed the book and pushed it to the side, having apparently giving up the pretense of anger. "Listen, Harry…" she sighed, laying a hand over his forearm. "Don't rely on him too much, please. He's dangerous… You didn't see the look on his face."

Harry turned away from her pleading expression, focusing his thoughts. "Considering you guys are a part of me I can imagine just fine."

"That sounds kind of dirty," muttered Ron sliding on top of the table, eating a biscuit that appeared in his hand from nowhere. "And I'm okay with that."

Harry couldn't resist the smile that tugged at his lips. By the look on her face Hermione looked as if she was fighting not to reach for her wand to curse the smirking man, who was giving her a leering look. It was just as he remembered it. Lazy Sunday's spent in one of their flats with bottles of wine at their feet, minds buzzed and conversations endlessly flowing.

"Glad you're crazy, huh?" said Ron, laughing easily. "You get to see this dashing mug whenever you fancy."

Hermione patted his shoulder, glaring at Ron. "He's not crazy." She turned to Harry, her face softening with a warm smile. "Having alters doesn't make you crazy. Dissociative Identity Disorder is a mental condition that doesn't mean you're any less sane than other people."

Harry blinked. "The fact that I'm in my mind talking to my multiple personalities is a sure sign a screw's loose, Hermione."

It was true. He was crazy and he knew it. The training had broken him so utterly that at one point he had retreated so far in himself that when he came back he wasn't right. His mind fractured. The _event _took bases of his personality and imprinted them on memories and forms that he already knew. Hermione was born from his intelligence and wit. Ron was born from his adventurous nature and love of life, and _he _was born in fire and pain from a will to live, survive and kill.

His captors hadn't noticed the change in him. If they did they would have noted his eyes seemed less dim and his movements not as zombie like. They helped him when he needed it most. While they never took over his body like others with multiple personality disorders, the trigger was there but the Occlumency was enough for him to keep the alters in check.

"I wish you wouldn't talk about yourself like that," she said, not meeting his eyes.

Harry shrugged. "It's true."

"You're mad," Ron said simply, blue eyes studying him. "Not crazy or whatnot, but angry. This is classic, broody Harry Potter circa sixth year."

Hermione groaned. "Honestly, Ronald. It's called tact. Learn it."

"I can't keep but thinking about all those people…" he scrubbed a hand down his face. "I was just about to bring hell down on that bastard."

"You don't always need to be the hero, Harry," said Hermione, voice calm and even.

Ron chuckled. "Did you forget who you're talking to? He had an Order of Merlin before he was two." He sobered up and nodded at Harry, smile turning slightly proud. "You did brilliant back there. At least you helped get those people to safety."

"I can't believe they're going to Avalon," said Hermione, stars practically appearing in her eyes as she gushed. "Imagine what they'll see! It will be the greatest discovery in history."

"I can't believe I actually have to point out to _you _of all people the fact they're refugees," said Ron, goggling.

She had the decency to blush. "Well there's that."

Harry shifted awkwardly in his seat. "Why do you know so much about Avalon? You're practically me, so I should know what you know and that isn't much."

The witch straightened her shoulders and her eyes gleamed as she prepared to delve into scholar mode. Ron shot him an annoyed look and he took a seat in a chair, kicking his legs on top of the table and getting comfortable. This was going to take a while.

"We're manifestations of various natures of your mind and we know it better than you sometimes," explained Hermione as knowledgeable and patient as her namesake. "Whether you can't consciously remember things doesn't mean you don't know it subconsciously. I can recall every lesson you sat through in History of Magic. Even if you weren't paying Professor Binns attention you still _heard_ his lectures."

He pondered on that bit of information. Although he wasn't expecting it, the explanation made sense. In the end it might prove to be helpful.

"Hit me with your best shot," said Harry. "What do you know about Avalon?"

Ron snorted and muttered. "What doesn't she know?"

"Classless," Hermione sighed, turning her nose up at him. "A lot has been lost through history and time, but we know Avalon is the home of magic. It's the birthplace of wizardry and the origin of all wizards. The exact factors that occurred are unknown -- historians think it was war, but it led to a great exodus. The people fled to Earth and the three leaders at the time locked the way back with magic and blood."

Harry dug in his memory till he found a string of names. "The leaders… They were Lilith, Adam and Eve. Right? The Garden of Eden. The story of Adam and Eve, this is where it comes from."

Hermione nodded. "That's right. Eden was the capitol city on Avalon." She took a moment to remember her place and then continued. "The refugees found Earth to be wild, primitive and the humans were barbaric. Some integrated with the muggles, shedding their old way of life and taking on new ones. Others secluded themselves away, preferring to hide in the secret places of the world and keeping from sight."

"And so began the founding of the wizarding world," said Ron, making his voice sound exaggeratedly aged and winded.

Hermione ignored him. "Merlin's arguably the most famous wizard to actually come from Avalon. He made it his life's work to guide muggles on a path toward enlightenment."

"Where's Avalon anyway?" asked Harry. "I know the way to it was sealed and that only the three bloodlines combined could open the doorway. And also, kind of surprised Dumbledore's bloodline goes that far."

"Are you really?" asked Hermione, plucking one eyebrow knowingly. No. He really wasn't. "No one knows where Avalon is exactly. The rhyme goes, _East of the Sun, west of the Moon; Between the stars and beneath the wings of the moon; There lies the land of magic's birth; Where lords of light still walk the earth_."

Harry tapped his finger against his chin. "It must be a pocket dimension or microverse just at the edge of reality, some kind of place out of phase with the rest of the universe."

"I'm glad Auror training taught you advanced theoretical magic," said Hermione impressed.

"I aced that class." Harry pointed at her. "Like you didn't already know all of that. What's your plan on getting home?"

She picked up her wand and waved it sharply. Ron's chair skidded back and his feet landed with a heavy thud against the floorboards. He glowered at her and she smiled back smugly. Hermione tapped her wand against the table and the surface began to light up. Forms and shapes rose up into images, a visual memory projected.

"That's me and the team about to arrest the dark wizards that got me into this mess," said Harry frowning. "How?"

Hermione smiled smugly watching the image earnestly. "We're in your mind so technically this whole place is a pensive. Never tried this before but I had a theory. Hmm, looks like a bit like a hologram."

The scene played out exactly how he remembered. He watched as his simulated form stumbled into the summoning circle. His blood and the blood of the dead touched sparking a catalyst that spurned on the magic saturating the air. It caused it to shift violently into something wild and fierce and uncontrollable.

Hermione studied the projected images. "The parameters that triggered the event that sent you to this universe… the blood and then the ritual alone…I'm sorry, Harry…"

"Just say it," he growled.

Ron spoke up before she could. "Even I can tell it would be damn unlikely to recreate all that." He looked truly apologetic. "Sorry, mate. You're stuck."

Harry's shoulders slumped and his face fell. "I knew you were going to say that."

"I think these people mean well, Harry," said Hermione, eying him with concern. "Please try and trust them a bit."

"I'll do the best I can."

He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was back in the room in the Triskelion with nothing but the quiet and loneliness to greet him.

.

A pile of clothes landed on the bed near Harry's stretched out form. He looked at it then up at Rogers who stood in the doorway dressed more casually than Harry had ever seen. He wore a pair of jeans with a black aviator jacket over a dark blue cable knit shirt.

"Get dressed," said Rogers, jabbing a finger at the pile of clothes. "We're going out."

"But Captain I hardly know you," said Harry dryly, sliding into a sitting position. "It would be terribly improper."

A grin stretched across the man's face. "Very funny, smartass. We're going for a drink. Figure you could use it."

Harry was out of bed at that and standing up, stretching with his fingertips toward the ceiling. "You should've said that from start, mate."

He cast a switching charm with a wave of his hand. His previous outfit appeared on the bed and he now wore the clothes Rogers that had thrown at him. He ran an eye over his outfit. He was clothed in a pair of slacks, a beige cashmere sweater and a black pair of oxfords.

"I'm a little weirded out that everything fits properly," said Harry, brushing at the wrinkles in his sleeves.

Rogers smirked. "This is SHIELD. They probably know what age you lost your virginity, who it was with and what time."

"On my Earth, we call that invasion of privacy."

"We call it a Tuesday."

Harry couldn't help chuckling as he followed the man from the room. He spent the better part of yesterday in his room sleeping and coming to terms with everything. Repression had been his friend for so long that he got emotionally overwhelmed when he finally really let go.

He didn't what to say to the man as they made their way through the complex to the helipad. Rogers was an easy enough man to talk to but this unexpected outing was playing with his nerves. Honestly he didn't know what to expect outside these walls. It would be his first time to experience the civilization of this alternate Earth.

The unmistakable hiss of helicopter blades was as always louder than expected as they approached the small, sleek black-and-gray copter. Rogers waved to the pilot at the controls and he and Harry climbed into the back.

Harry slipped the headset over his head, giving the other man a look as the copter lifted off. "You do know how to travel in style."

"It beats the helicopters back in my day," he admitted, watching the bay fade away as they went into a sharp ascent vector that took them at an altitude free of strong winds.

They passed the chunks of rock that was Ellis Island and Lady Liberty with her torch acting as a glowing beacon in the night. The Upper Bay of the New York Harbor disappeared as they accelerated past the Brooklyn Bridge. It had been too long since Harry had a seen city like this lit up in the night and it was impressive and as beautiful as he remembered as they flew over lower Manhattan. From the skyline the skyscrapers stood guard over the city and the pilot took them lower, veering past the upward thrusting office buildings and into a neighborhood that was less steel and glass.

"How good are you with heights?" Rogers' voice came through the speakers in the headset.

Harry looked at the man and then through the window. The copter hovered over a semi crowded entertainment distract. He would estimate the drop to be at least a hundred feet or a little over. It didn't take nothing but a second for him to realize what the man had in mind. He turned around and the Captain was already sliding the door of the copter open.

"What about a parachute?" asked Harry.

Rogers raised an eyebrow. "Why? You need one?"

"I was asking for you."

Harry's face split into a grin. He ripped off the headset and dived through the open door. Wind battered into him as he cleared the copter's radius. Harry twisted his body so his feet were angled down and he felt his descent smooth out. Two heartbeats later he landed in a crouch in an alleyway. Not a full second passed before Rogers landed at his side in much the same fashion. He took a quick look around and then waved up at the copter as it took off.

A cough was heard behind them and they turned as a bum fell out of a trash can. He was gray haired, dirty and clothed in ragged cast offs. Despite that he looked at Rogers like he was the second coming or a world wonder.

"You're…him! I can't believe it," the bum crowed, gray eyes wide and full of awe. "Goddamn Captain America! Your face has been all over the TV's, but I remember the recruitment posters back then. My dad used to show them to me when I was a kid. You're why I served in Vietnam."

"I'm flattered, sir." Rogers smiled, bright and genuine, and stepped closer to the man, reaching out to stuff a handful of bills into his hand. "Here, take it. From one soldier to another."

The man spluttered his thanks. Rogers gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder and then he and Harry made their exit. Harry had to admit the neighborhood wasn't exactly classy. Some of the buildings were rundown and boarded up, provocatively clad women walked the streets and there were questionable activities going on in the shadows of buildings.

"Hey, daddy, you looking for some action tonight?"

A woman, Harry did a double take and smirked, make that hooker, winked at him as she strolled past.

Harry tipped his head at her then turned to his companion. "Nice neighborhood."

Rogers swept his eyes around taking everything in with a clear look of disapproval. "I lived in this city my entire life. I won't leave because some hooligans are trying to give it a bad name."

"Hooligans?" questioned Harry amused. "Little old fashioned, huh?"

He jerked a thumb at his chest. "Made in 1917."

"Relic," Harry joked, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

The other man laughed and they didn't walk far. Their destination was just on the corner. They stepped into a hole in the wall bar. The interior was smoky and lazy music played from a jukebox in a corner. There were people scattered at tables and at the bar-top was a single man at the end nursing a beer.

They took a seat at the bar and the bartender was a bald man with a thick mustache with muscle on top of muscle. He looked more like a bouncer than a bartender. Only the white towel tucked in the back of his pants gave him away.

"Scotch and water for me," Harry said after the bartender grunted at him.

Rogers just pointed to one of the beers on tap. The bartender gave them their drinks then made himself busy wiping down the counter at the end of the bar.

The soldier raised his beer and his eyes looked past Harry, distant and solemn. "Here's to fighting the good fight and to all those who didn't make it."

Harry somberly stared at his glass and then raised it high. They clinked glasses and Harry took a large swallow, feeling the liquid burn its way down his throat and light up his stomach. His chest went tight and he huffed out a sigh.

Harry traced a figure around the rim of the tumbler and stared into the glass like it held the answers to life's mysteries. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Thought you could use a drink," Rogers answered downing a quarter of his beer. "I was asleep in an ice floe for sixty years. I know what it's like to wake up in a different place with no family and not a friend in sight."

"Were you locked up like a rat and tortured for months?" asked Harry deceptively casual. His snort broke the silence. "Didn't think so. Look, I don't want a pity party or anything. I don't even want to think about it really."

Rogers shrugged looking unphased by the retort. "Whatever you say. Just thought you could use a friend. It's a big world out there."

"One that I don't fit into," said Harry, taking a sip of his drink. "I don't know what I'm going to do. You know anyone looking to hire an Auror?"

"Auror?"

"Dark wizard catcher, bit like a policeman but more specialized like your country's FBI or CIA." Harry waved his hand, his lip curling up into a half smile. "Fat lot of good all that training's going to do me now. So what's your story? I got the history book version from Fury. What's your side?"

He stared at his beer for a long moment. The pause was so long that Harry was unsure that he had heard the question. But he knew that he did. He gave him all the time he needed as Rogers gathered himself and spoke steadily.

"I had a girl once," he began out of the blue. "There was no other woman like her. Gail stuck by me through everything even though she hated the project. But I was set on serving and fighting back. We loved hard and we argued hard. She was everything to me. We were going to get hitched."

Harry eyebrows rose. "What happened?"

"Six months before our nuptials instead of coming home I was declared K.I.A. and stuck in ice…. As soon as I joined the project and they started pumping chemicals in me, Gail said it would destroy us—Guess she was right... She's someone's grandmother now and married to my best buddy." Rogers smiled wide and with a touch of awe. "But even with a head full of silver hair my girl still looks gorgeous. She's one of my reasons why I keep on fighting."

Harry understood the sentiment. He became an Auror because he didn't want wizards bent on power to destroy families the way his was. Harry made it through training knowing that he had friends to make proud. They were all he had and they were his reason.

"I'll drink to that," said Harry, saluting with his glass. "So what's SHIELD's real directive? I know what they led me to believe and I have a guess but enlighten me."

Rogers laced his fingers together and rested them against the bar's edge. "The Strategic Hazard Intervention Espionage Logistics Directorate is responsible for counter terrorism and intelligence gathering, as well as stopping all threats that are too great for normal channels to handle."

Harry leveled him with a teasing grin. "You sound like a walking brochure."

"Some things never change," Rogers laughed, shaking his head. "My buddy Bucky used to say the same thing. Kept calling me Captain Boy Scout once I got the super soldier upgrade."

"Friends are the only thing I'm going to miss from my Earth," Harry muttered, expression distant.

Rogers watched him closely. "No family?"

"If I didn't believe you were honestly curious, I would tell you to piss off," said Harry, leaning back in his chair and appraising the blond. "I kind of like you though. You're an alright guy… I don't have any family. I was an orphan."

Harry turned to order another drink and Rogers did the same. He seemed to sense that Harry didn't want to delve further into that particular topic. He was right. There was no way in Hell he was going to be caught dead discussing his parents and getting all chickish, discussing feelings, in a bar with a virtual stranger. He shuddered at the thought.

"In the battle of Normandy I punched a man so hard he called me the wraith of God before he clocked out."

Harry blinked at the declaration and a slow smile spread across his face, mirroring the sly expression Rogers wore. "We're exchanging war stories now? Hell _yes_."

Rogers waved at the bartender. "Can we get a couple of shots Cuervo and another round?"

"Now you're speaking my language."

.

It's a little after three in the morning as they make their way down Avenue A. Rogers has his arm wrapped around Harry shoulders and he's singing some song from the 30's that has them both laughing like it's the funniest thing on the planet. Harry grinned widely not caring how dumb they look, his head felt light and his body was pleasantly warm.

"You sound like a drunk Irishmen," said Harry with a bark of laughter.

"My parents were Irish," Rogers said fondly. "They immigrated here before I was born. Lived over in the Lower East Side."

They crossed a street to an empty lot that was suitable to rendezvous with the copter. A group of six young men noisily jeered at them from their sprawling positions on top of a single car in the lot. They were easily ignored and had the opposite effect of just riling them up even more.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" one of the men called out.

Another man with red hair jumped in front of their path, a lead pipe in his right hand. "Don't you fellas hear him talking to you?"

All traces of inebriety faded as Rogers shoulders straightened and he faced the men with clear eyes. "You gentlemen don't want to do this. We don't want any trouble and this will only end in you having a bad night I assure you."

"Please," said Harry meekly, prompting Rogers to give him an exasperated sigh. "We don't want any trouble."

He ducked his head to hide his smile. He didn't want any trouble, but a little fun wouldn't hurt. The men circled them like their numbers mattered.

"Give us your wallets," said a redhead with a thick Jersey accent. "Them shoes too. My old man needs a new pair."

His buddies laughed and one of them shouted, "Happy Father's Day!"

Harry blinked. Was this real life? That wasn't even remotely funny. Rogers shared his disbelieving expression and held up his hands to the gang in a placating gesture.

"I'm almost out of patience with you wiseguys so just take a hike."

The redhead let out a mocking laugh. "Dicksmack over here sounds like my grandpa. You a retard or something, man?" His grip tightened on the pole and the group closed in. "I'd be more than happy to beat some sense into you."

The pole swung wide and Rogers twisted his midsection almost lazily to avoid the blow. His arm came up and he snatched the pole from the attacker like plucking a flower. The action threw off the man's momentum and he tripped right into Rogers' waiting fist. The punch lifted him clear off his feet and he was knocked out before crumpling to the ground.

Instead of seeing the moment for what it was, which was them getting their asses handing to them, the men surged forward. To Harry's eyes their movements were sloppy and slow. But then, he and Rogers had reflexes faster than the normal human being. Harry pushed a man and the force sent him rocketing backward like he was hit by a car. The landing was brutally painful and sent him skidding across the pavement flat on his stomach and face a good three yards.

Rogers cross kicked a thug in the head and then his arm came up lightning quick. His fingers latched onto the wrist of a scowling man wielding a knife. A swift punch to the captured arm broke it and the bone ruptured through the skin of the forearm in a spray of blood and agonized screams.

Harry fingers tightened around the shirt collar of a particularly brave attacker who thought that he could sneak up behind him. He kicked the man's leg and barely noted he broke it before his fist was pounding into his pained face. It all happened in two heartbeats. He dropped the man unceremoniously and turned at the sound of a gun being cocked.

The last man standing, pale and terrified, pointed a gun at Harry with shaking hands. He backed up slowly and Harry saw the tightening in his muscles and knew without a doubt the man was going to shoot.

"What's with the snake?" Harry asked with a cheery smile.

Harry winked and the man's confusion turned into full blown panic as the gun rippled like liquid and morphed into a four foot long python. Hissing it wrapped around the man's torso and its head darted in again and again, incredibly fast, as it bit him repeatedly in his exposed flesh. Before the fifth bite could occur his eyes rolled back and he fell to the ground.

There was only the sound of whimpers and groaning in the fight's aftermath. Harry snapped his fingers at the snake and it evaporated in a waft of airy gray smoke. Rogers bent over to lay his hands over the pulse point in the man's wrist.

"The snake wasn't poisonous," Harry explained before he could ask. "Too complex to conjure that kind of anatomy. He'll come around in a bit."

Rogers stood up and shook his head at the spot the snake vanished from. "Well, that's different. Could have used some fancy tricks like that back in the war."

"My world had the same war and the outcome was pretty much spot on," Harry replied, staring at the sky with his hands behind his back. He met the other man's stare with a grin as the copter came into view. "I gotta say, Rogers. A bottle of scotch and a good brawl makes me feel right at home. I think we're going to get along alright."

"Gee, that makes me feel all warm and tender, right here," he teased, tapping his heart. "Save it for your diary."

Harry's rolling laugh was drowned in the _whop whop_ of the whirring blades of the descending helicopter.

* * *

Sunlight steamed through the floor to ceiling windows throwing light into the corridor. Steve Rogers was one of the many uniformed people passing through the hall. The others wore various shades of blue depending on their job code within the Triskelion base.

Rogers glanced to the side as Tony Stark appeared next to him, completely in step and dressed in a sharp suit that probably cost more than what some folks made in a month. The billionaire glanced at the taller man with a sly grin.

"So I hear you had an interesting night out a few days ago?"

The soldier smiled crookedly. "I see the pilots have been gossiping. Someone's looking at some KP duty."

"That's all Hendrickson talked about on the ride here," Tony confirmed, looking entirely too amused about the whole affair. "If you weren't that kid's hero before you definitely got a fan now."

He made a mental note to avoid riding with Hendrickson for awhile. The young man was a fine pilot, but was new to the base and wasn't quite subtle in his idolizing.

"Great," said Rogers with a sigh. "It was a just misunderstanding. We handled it like gentlemen."

Tony snorted, blue eyes twinkling. "That's not the way I hear it. Word is you and ET moped the floor with them."

Rogers frowned at the unfamiliar term. "ET? I think you mean EU. Potter's an extrauniversal visitor."

The billionaire looked at him like he couldn't decide if he was joking or not. Then Tony smirked and rolled his shoulders in a casual shrug.

"Silly me," he replied, biting back a laugh.

Rogers glanced at the polished metallic briefcase in the Tony's hand. "I take it you haven't come all this way for a social meeting?"

Tony grinned and jiggled the briefcase. "I need someone almost as brilliant as me to go over these specs. And since Richards is off doing something fantastically heroic or whatever it is his group does, I'm forced to consult with Banner."

Rogers narrowed his eyes at the thought of the Bruce Banner. Dr. Banner's job as head of the Operation Rebirth project had been the recreation of the super soldier serum. He thought he succeeded, and tested the serum on himself. The results were disastrous. He didn't turn into a super soldier. Banner transformed into the Hulk -- a big, green monster with Class 50 superhuman strength, a penchant for destruction and the libido of an adult film star.

"Did you clear it with Fury?" asked Rogers. "You need clearance to gain access to the holding area."

"Of course I did," stated Tony, and then he frowned. "Look, it's not like he's a _real_ criminal, Cap. They almost pulled the plug on this whole Ultimates gig if it wasn't for him making us look like heroes."

Rogers pressed his lips together. "Good intentions or not, Tony, the man was responsible for a three-figure death toll that day. And that I cannot abide."

With public opinion at an all time low for the twenty first century defense initiative, for its funneling of millions of taxpayers dollars and no super-villains in sight the media had a field day with SHIELD's utter uselessness. That's when Banner had the shortsighted plan to give the Ultimates a monster to fight and to show _something_ from his life's work. In the end Manhattan was wrecked, the Ultimates were elevated to national heroes, and Banner was stuck in a holding cell with his DNA forever altered.

"All well that ends well, and all that," Tony replied easily, unconcerned and unphased by Rogers disapproval of the scientist. "Bruce Banners for all his shortcomings is kind of a genius, and any input he can give on these specs would be fabulous."

Rogers shrugged. "You know where the holding area is. I'm not stopping you."

Tony nodded and started passed the man. He didn't take a couple of steps before he stopped and turned back and called out to the retreating man.

"Hey, Cap," he said, gaining the Captain's attention. "I'm having a private dinner at my place Friday night. It will be just the team mingling and mixing. Thor's even coming. What do you say, old boy?"

That was a friendship that came out of nowhere. No one had seen Tony Stark and Thor becoming chummy. After the Hulk fight weeks ago, the two had spent an hour and a half hanging around having a laugh.

A genuine smile, small, but honest spread across Roger's face. "Count me in too, then. We're overdo for some team bonding."

"Fantastic!" said Tony, smiling that smile that donned covers of countless magazines. "I live over on Park Avenue. I'll send you full directions later."

Whistling a jaunty tune, Tony gave a short wave and turned the corner with his briefcase swinging at his side. Rogers shook his head with a wry smile. There was something about that man that you couldn't help but like no matter if his ego was larger than life. If charm was a weapon Tony Stark wielded it with deadly accuracy. And there wasn't a damn way you could tell him differently.

Rogers' office was located on one of the higher floors of the Triskelion base. This was for security reasons more than anything, but the level had the added benefit of granting a spectacular view of the Statue of Liberty from the windows.

It was a surprise more than anything to step into his office and find his view obstructed. Dressed in black slacks, and a blue shirt that served as SHIELD's more casual uniform was Nick Fury. The General stood in front of the large windows that wrapped around the room. While it looked like glass, the windows were made of transparent aluminum that could easily resist high amounts of damage before breaking.

Looking just as composed and professional as he had ever seen her was Betty Ross, the longtime friend to the Pym's and Bruce Banner's onetime girlfriend. Currently her role was a dual one, acting as the Communications Director and Public Relations Officer for the Ultimates. Because of her quick thinking it was her who put a spin on their fight with the Hulk to work in their favor. The public was none the wiser to the Hulk's true identity and affiliation with SHIELD. If the truth was brought to light, all Hell would break loose.

"Good afternoon, Captain Rogers," Betty greeted, smiling up at him from the chair that faced his desk.

He nodded at the brunette. "How are you, Miss Ross?"

"I can't complain," she answered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Public opinion on you guys is at a record high, so it's a good week."

Fury chuckled and faced them. The sunlight hit him just right and the golden emblem emblazed over the right breast of his shirt gleamed smartly. The one eyed man pinned the Captain with his one dark eye not covered by a patch.

"The boys in Washington are making happy noises at that news," said Fury. He raised one slim eyebrow. "You're late."

Rogers crossed the room to his desk and took a seat on the ridiculously expensive chair that came with the office. He crossed his arms.

"I wasn't aware that we were having a meeting, General."

Fury pointed to the monitor on the man's desk. It was shiny and looked brand new like it had seen little use. It hadn't. Give him a weapon and he could tell you the best way to use it to kill a man. He was catching on quickly to things, but the more technological aspects of today made him feeling woefully inept.

"I sent you a memo," explained Fury.

Rogers glanced at the monitor and smiled guilty under the man's scrutiny. "I'm adapting pretty well to everything, but I'm not as proficient as I would like."

"I know plenty of women who wouldn't mind giving you some private lessons," said Betty smiling a little too innocently and causing the man to color slightly. He wasn't accustomed to this sort of talk in mixed company.

Fury cracked a smile as Rogers' apparent embarrassment. "Don't mind her, Captain. Betty here sometimes has no brain to mouth filter."

"Oh, please, like you're any better, soldier-boy?" she retorted, giving him a knowing stare. They had been working closely together since the Ultimates were assembled, and she could definitely now count Nick as a friend.

He pointed at her, mouth tilted up in a half smile. "Tact, ma'am. I have it. You don't."

"You wish, General," said Betty, cherry red painted lips widening at the corners. She faced Rogers who watched them with a patient smile. "Now, Captain, I do believe that file on the desk is for your eyes only."

Rogers glanced at the folder lying flat across the desk's surface. He slid it closer and opened the cover. His eyes scanned the front page and his face must've have mirrored his emotions because the General didn't bother to hide his open laughter.

"You're kidding, right?"

Fury shook his head. "The President already signed off on it. This is legit."

"I don't understand. What brought this on?" asked Rogers, thumbing through the rest of the signed off orders.

The General crossed his arms and leaned against the window. "Like it or not, Potter's a successful subject of the super soldier serum and Weapon X engineering. He's got class 20 superhuman strength and that magic of his resonates on an Alpha level, maybe Omega. We don't know what the cap is. It seems to be limitless." He scratched at his goatee. "Doctor Strange would be an ideal judge of that, but we couldn't get a hold of him."

Betty rolled her eyes. "He's apparently astral projecting to another plane. Whatever. I know a blow off when I hear it."

"Simmer down, Betty," Fury teased her with a little smirk. "Point is, Potter's gone through enough psych evals and has been cleared by the docs. The higher ups want him on the team so he's being offered a slot and I okay-ed it."

Rogers nodded and said almost absently. "This is going to be a shock to him. He thought he was just going to be hustled off into civilian life."

Fury shrugged. "That's still an option. This is another one."

"If he takes it we'll have to hush up his origins. Can't have the public knowing that our friend was experimented on and held hostage by the government, of course." Betty said this briskly as if cover-ups were her specialty. They were. "The fact is SHIELD needs to show results and Potter is perfect. With his skills, those green eyes and sex bomb looks people will fall in love with him."

"A public relations coup," supplied Fury helpfully to Rogers. "A perfect killer with the looks of a movie star that you can take home to mom. They'll eat it up."

He had to admit the entire idea was sound. With Hank Pym being a louse ever since getting taken down by the Hulk he had been sulky and uncooperative. Frankly, Rogers had seen better attitudes on girl scouts. The "Giant Man" didn't live up to his hype and his ego took a beating worse than his body. It would be a few weeks before Hank could perform another height multiplication and transform into his giant form.

If Harry was on the team then maybe that would be a good thing. Hank had been a letdown, and if Harry wanted on the Ultimates it would definitely be a step-up from the surly Doctor Pym. Rogers liked Harry. The man was quick witted, good in a fight, and damn powerful from what he'd read.

"What about his powers? That magic of his," Rogers clarified, feeling weird to be discussing the topic of magic seriously. "How are you going to explain that one? That's definitely not part of the super soldier package. People might take him for a mutant."

And the general populace didn't do well with mutants.

Betty waved her hand dismissively. "We're going with it being a side effect from the new formula. Plus the focus groups numbers have been majorly positive in response to magic approval rating."

"I see you covered all your bases," said Rogers, sounding suitably impressed. He folded his fingers together and leaned back in the chair. "Now all you have to do convince Harry, General Fury."

"What do you think he'll say?"

He shrugged because honestly he didn't know. "Who's to say? He really, really hates SHIELD, General."

"Hate?" asked Fury thoughtfully. He nodded, then. "I've dealt with more violent emotions. Hate, I can work with."

* * *

The gym housed in the Triskelion was just as large as one of those huge corporate ones that dominated the fitness industry. There was enough exercise equipment located in the gigantic room to satisfy an Olympic athlete. Harry picked the farthest treadmill he could away from the curious eyes of the gym's other occupants.

Harry jabbed at the buttons on the machine and turned his eyes to the rhythm pounding of his feet hitting the tread. He could practically feel the curiosity aimed at him. They wanted to see what he was capable of, what kind of show he would put on. Well too bad. They weren't getting one. He already felt like a gerbil in a ball. He wasn't about to become fodder for water cooler gossip later.

He knew he was strong. They knew it too. He could curl 600 pounds with one arm. Hell, he could bench press a Toyota without strain. Harry closed his eyes to settle himself into a peaceful run. Rogers told him they would get over it, but it was reminding him eerily of his youth. The stares, the subtle gawking, except there were no flickering gazes to his scar. That was a plus.

Harry shook himself out of his maudlin thoughts. A quick glance down revealed he was running at approximately 35 miles per hour. He wasn't even breathing hard. Okay, that was kind of cool. His endurance was phenomenal. He shook his head huffing out a short laugh. That was such Hermione thought.

He slowed down till he was running at a speed that was more typical for an athlete, maybe an Olympic one but still within human parameters. A smirk hinted around his lips as he caught sight of a stretching woman near the free weights covertly staring at his chest. He flexed his pecs unconsciously and she briefly met his eyes before ducking her head with a deep blush.

So maybe there were some perks to this super soldier thing. He had never been lanky like Ron, but he had been toned. Now his shoulders were broader, his arms and chest were bigger. There was no way he would ever make a good Seeker again with the amount of muscle on him. Rugby player maybe. He took a glance at his protruding bicep. Definitely.

Still that didn't decrease his wish for flying. He wished he had his old broom with him. Sure he could charm one, but it wouldn't be the same. Broomcrafters jealously hoarded their secrets of spellweaving the right magic into brooms. With his luck he would go tumbling out the sky midway through a Wronski Feint.

"They don't kid with that Super Soldier title, huh?"

Harry blinked hard at the woman leaning on the free machine next to his. She grinned up at him through her eyelashes, violet eyes tracking his run with open wonder. Her dark hair was cut short and styled into soft spikes like a pixie.

Harry tilted his head, trying and failing to place her face. "I've seen you before…"

"Probably the 6 o'clock news," she offered, smoothing out the wrinkles in the lavender sports bra she wore. "I'm Jan Pym."

"_Wasp_," Harry muttered, finally connecting the dots. "You're one of the Ultimates. Giant Man's wife, right?"

Jan smile teasingly. "Why? Does my husband owe you money?" She laughed light and quick and almost melodic. "Just kidding."

Harry wiped his hand against his shirt and stuck it out. "Harry Potter... You probably already know that, huh?"

"I kind of do," she grinned, shaking his hand firmly. "A shadow op working under SHIELD's umbrella, boy, Fury was pissed. How's that whole super soldier thing working for you?"

Harry blinked at her blunt curiosity. "Hurt like a bitch. Don't have any complaints right now."

Jan cracked a guilty smile. "That was kind of rude. You have no idea how long people have been trying to recreate the super soldier serum, and then bam we find out there's you. So you're a pretty big deal around here."

Putting it like that made him seem a little less like that gerbil in a ball. To them he was pretty much a walking miracle and a confirmation that what they strove for could be accomplished.

"So all I have to do is meet your husband and Thor, and I'll have met the whole team," noted Harry, pressing a button to slow his run to a light jog.

"Pretty much," said Jan. "So what's the plan? Are you, like, living here?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm supposed to meet General Fury later today. I think he's going to talk to me about getting a public identity. I think they might get me shuffled into civilian life."

"I suppose I'll have to tell you that New York is full of starving models," said Jan with exaggerated concern. "So you'll have to pick a different career path."

Harry snapped his fingers, frowning. "Damn. What will I do now? All I have is my looks."

"Such a shame," she chirped brightly. "You would've been a hit at it."

"Why, Ms. Pym, are you flirting with me?" asked Harry. He dropped his voice an octave, so it was deeper and smoother, his accent coming out delightfully charming. "Not that I would mind."

"It's _Mrs_. Pym," she purred, eyes bright with amusement. "And married women don't flirt. We _tease_."

Harry held up his hands a lopsided, apologetic grin on his face. "Sorry, _Mrs. _Pym. Can't blame a bloke for trying."

"Mmmhmm," she murmured with a nod, a little smile on her face. "So how have you been enjoying your stay at the, oh so fabulous Triskelion? Beats the Hilton."

Harry had to admit that was true. While his first stay at a SHIELD base was living Hell, much could be said about the New York headquarters of the United States Superhuman Defense Initiative. The fact that he could exit his rooms without a damn collar and chain was already a step up.

"It's been alright," admitted Harry with a shrug. "Three square meals and a hot shower seems like a luxury now."

Jan's eyes dimmed a bit. "I heard about that. I mean, about what happened to you—everyone doesn't know, but the Ultimates were at the debriefing." She reached out to pat his arm, and then pulled back halfway unsure whether the touch was wanted. "Listen, for what its worth. I'm sorry."

"Thanks," he said in an even tone. "What's done is done. You can't change the past."

"I hope you get what you want," she replied. "Maybe I can help you get yourself set up when you go civilian. I helped Steve with his wardrobe. God knows he needed it."

"Steve Rogers?" he asked, and then grinned at her affirmative nod. "So are you the Super Soldier welcome wagon?"

"More like stylist consultant," Jan shot back, staring at his long-sleeved red shirt and green athletic shorts. "You look like Christmas come early. The serum must make you boys color blind."

"Looking my best to workout isn't a priority."

Jan laughed in his face. "Keep telling yourself that."

She flicked her eyes to the left and he turned. A group of women were working out in front of a mirror and were using the reflection to blatantly check him out, their movements jerky and uncoordinated as they were keenly focused on their ogling. Harry flushed and quickly turned back only to encounter Jan's smirk and raised eyebrow.

"I suggest wearing a wife beater next time," advised Jan. "They'll really go gaga then, like a pack of dogs in heat. It will be amazing."

He imagined himself in a tank-top working out next time and he had couldn't resist liking that idea. Because really, it had been too long since he had a little action. And going without just wasn't healthy.

A slow smile spread across his face. "I like the way you think."

"I know. Tell me I'm awesome."

He let out a surprised laugh and shook his head. Okay, he begrudgingly admitted, maybe these guys weren't all so bad.

.

Rogers and General Fury occupied spots around the metallic table within the conference room. They watched the play by play of emotions dance across Harry's face in the wake of the proposal they just dropped on him.

This was…unexpected. Harry had expected a meeting that involved getting the Hell away from SHIELD, and hopefully somewhere far, far away with a nice check with a bunch of zeroes, and _freedom_. This was the exact opposite.

It was a good thing that he worked out before this meeting or he would be a hell of a lot tenser than he currently was and furious. Instead the only thing he felt was a lucid calm and a growing disbelief. A single thought cycled through his mind, _what the Hell_. He blinked hard realizing that he had said that persistent thought aloud.

"I'm not really following," said Harry slowly.

Fury calmly repeated the offer. "We want you to join the Ultimates."

"I heard you," Harry corrected, looking between the two men. "I'm just not getting the _why_."

"You represent a great many things to SHIELD and you have a rare set of skills at your disposal," clarified Fury. "That's why you've been given this opportunity."

"You say opportunity I say manipulation," said Harry, carefully trying to keep the anger from his tone. He was _so_ close to snapping. "SHIELD made me this way. _Rescued _me and now you want me to work for you. How… convenient."

Rogers glanced at Fury and then leaned forward, meeting Harry's eyes with open honesty. "I promise this is on the up and up. I know you didn't sign up to be a super soldier, but it's what you are now. You can do a lot of good, Harry."

It finally sunk in and Harry stared at them neutrally. "You're really serious? Do you know what you're asking? You want me to fight not only for the country, but the very same organization that held me prisoner and experimented on me. I would rather take an _Avada Kedavra _to the face."

"We can make it worth your while," said Fury. He slid a folder over to Harry, who didn't bother to open it. "The money's more than nice and we're willing to negotiate anything you want within reason. It's a sweet deal, kid."

Harry pushed the folder away without glancing at it, and crossed his arms stoically regarding the men. "What's behind door number two?"

"Once we've finished falsifying your background, you can be settled into civilian life," said Fury as glibly as discussing the weather. "It will be like witness protection. You can't tell anybody who you really are, what you can do, and everything about you will be a lie. Every month you'll receive a government stipend, and if anybody discovers the truth you'll have to be relocated and given a new false background."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "So you'll be keeping tabs on me?"

"Like a hawk watching salmon swim upstream," Fury answered smoothly. "Ain't the first time security services had to watch a former prisoner of a shadow op. You were trained to be an assassin, and that type of conditioning doesn't go away."

The fact was this wasn't surprising really. To hear it confirmed so straightforwardly was the surprise. After a life full of half-truths and misdirection's having something divulged without a quest or research was kind of refreshing.

Harry nodded. "I suppose that's expected. You're the king of paranoid."

"I see you've met Jan Pym," Fury said with a laugh shaking his head. "I _do_ love her little nicknames."

"And there were quite a few of them," confirmed Harry.

Rogers cleared his throat. "Are you going to think about the offer?"

"About joining the Ultimates?" Harry asked, turning to the man, "Is that a rhetorical question?"

"Harry," said Rogers sighing, "please reconsider. We need a tough team and you make the cut."

Rogers really wasn't a bad guy. He liked Jan too, and he found Tony Stark's charm amusing. Yet there was a part of himself that wouldn't agree. He just couldn't say yes. He did find pleasure in denying SHIELD, but it was more than that even being in this compound made his skin crawl. If he couldn't rain hell down on the organization then this little bit of cathartic pleasure was all he could seek.

"I'm going to go ahead and pass on that offer," said Harry not even bothering to sound apologetic. He narrowed his eyes at Fury then. "You're not going to take no for an answer are you?"

Fury snorted. "Most of the team said no before they eventually caved. Thor was the last hold out. Once the President doubled the U.S.'s foreign aid budget, we got ourselves a bonefied thunder god."

"I can't be so easily bought, General." Harry leaned back and grinned coolly. "I'm not for sale."

"I'll let you think it over and we can make final decisions tomorrow," replied Fury easily.

Harry rolled his eyes and muttered, "It's like talking to a brick wall."

"I get that a lot."

Rogers stood up along with Harry. "I'll walk with you. I'm leaving too."

Harry shrugged and let the man walk at his side as they exited the room. Passing people were very respectful as they greeted the soldier in the hallways. His greetings weren't forced and each wave and smile was sincere and authentic.

"You're not going to change my mind," said Harry as they strolled through the atrium.

He was met with a raised eyebrow and wry expression. "You're awfully full of yourself, aren't you? I wasn't going to bring it up actually."

Harry blinked. "Oh."

"But since we're on the subject now," said Rogers smiling teasingly at Harry's glare. "I'm only joking. This isn't the place or the time really. You have your options and it's your decision."

"Thanks," said Harry quietly.

If maybe they had met under different circumstances then maybe, _maybe. _ Harry sighed internally. Life used to be so much simpler. A longing flared deep in his chest for moving stairs, portraits that talked and a castle that felt like home in a way that no other place ever did.

Harry didn't notice the red flames licking at his heels, flickering in and out as his yearning waxed and waned. His thoughts were full of waving wands and cloaks and rolls of parchments. The fire deepened red hot and Rogers shouted at the sight of the expanding flame. Harry let out his own shocked cry as the fire burned brighter, gentle to him, yet very real.

And for the second time in his life Harry's phoenix abilities kicked in and he teleported without prior intent. Before Steve Rogers and a gathering of SHIELD employees Harry Potter vanished in a burst of fire and light.

Rogers pulled out his mobile, tapped two buttons and pressed it to his ear. "General this is Rogers. We have a situation."

* * *

In a flash of fire Harry fell to his knees on firm earth. He looked around his surroundings with alarm. Rolling green hills stretched out before him and in the distance was a mountain range. To his immediate left was a clear lake and far off was a sprawling forest.

"_Gryffindor's bloody ghost_," he swore, taking a deep breath of the freshest and cleanest air he'd smelled in weeks.

This was just unbelievable and utterly embarrassing. He hadn't done accidental magic since he was a teenager. The aspects of his phoenix given abilities were as powerful as they were unpredictable and untrained.

Harry swiped his fingers through his hair. He twisted on feet to apparate and found himself facing the same green countryside. Trying again he gained another failed result. That bit of magic that allowed him to slip through time and space wasn't there. Harry took a long moment to think. Without that damn collar whatever alterations done to him was further altering his body and magic. The muggles experimented on him with all the foreknowledge of lab tests, and now he was paying for it in spades.

"Alright, get it together, Potter," he said aloud. "I was thinking about Hogwarts and then I apparated…" No, that wasn't right. "I teleported – like Fawkes."

That was insane. The only thing that had been on his mind before he had found himself here was Hogwarts. He looked around with a doubtful sneer. And this sure as Hell wasn't the sight that served as the castle's extensive grounds. Mid gaze he stopped and stared. Or possibly… _it was._

That loch resembled Black Lake at a glance, and the forest to the east was a less gloomy and dense version of the Forbidden Forest. Even so in his mind eye he could envision slopping lawns with vegetable patches, flowerbeds and greenhouses and a full-size Quidditch pitch. Hogwarts loomed just ahead in all its majestic glory with its jumble of towers and battlements. Harry blinked hard to reset his vision and the images vanished as the normal countryside returned.

"Oh," he muttered numbly, staring around with disbelief.

He looked around the Scottish landscape, because yes, that's where he was. In his universe this was the sight of the most ancient stronghold of magical knowledge in all of Europe. So far there hadn't been anything in this entire universe that gave him a connection to home. Even without the castle standing as a bastion of magic this place still pulled at his heartstrings like no other.

Harry wasn't up to Professor Dumbledore's skill at sensing magic. He lacked the age honed talent the elder wizard possessed. Though at most times he could faintly sense the whispers of energy magic gave off when he concentrated, and now, focusing, there was nothing here. Not even a faint inkling of even a past trace.

He scrubbed at the scowl on his face. He shouldn't even have bother trying. Harry knew nothing had ever been built in this spot. He was the only one of his kind here and he needed to make his peace with that.

Harry took a seat on a piece of flat rock that jotted out from the soil like a stone bench. He took off the camo union jacket that SHIELD donated leaving him in just a black checkered shirt and jeans. There was a chill but it was barely noticeable. Rubbing at his inner forearms, Harry grimaced as his fingers rubbed against the wand and bone fusion lying just under his flesh.

He dropped his arms and muttered, "Bastards."

Dropping his head into his hands Harry heaved out a sigh, and then raised his head to look out across the lake. Harry closed his eyes hard and he felt light in body for a still moment. He opened his eyes to the sight of the Gryffindor common room.

Ron sat on the ledge of a windowsill and gave Harry a lazy wave. "No Hogwarts here, huh? That kind of fucking sucks."

"Language, Ron. Learn some manners," Hermione admonished sitting up from where she'd been lounging on the sofa. She walked over to Harry and folded her arms around him in a warm hug. "Hey, Harry."

Harry let her lead him over to the sofa and he plopped down on the arm, and she took up her original position. Hermione smoothed her palms over her pleated skirt and rested her book on her lap. She looked at him with a wry look and smile.

"You're going to have to get a handle on your altered magic," said Hermione.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Hermione Granger, pointing out the obvious. Story of our lives."

"Ron Weasley, bottomless stomach and endless smart comments," Hermione shot right back. "How I managed to fall in love with you I'll never know."

"S'probably my wicked body," Ron grinned lewdly, flexing a bicep in her direction. His shirt was a little tight and her eyes lingered for a moment till she threw her nose up.

"Such a romantic," said Hermione, failing to keep the fondness from her tone. Ron smiled pleased and shot Harry a wink.

Harry watched them with a fond smile. He knew they weren't his real friends, but this was as close as he could get. And he would take it. Never mind if that made him a little bit crazy. He was definitely okay with that.

"I'm worried about your magic," said Hermione, squeezing Harry's arm to get his attention. "It looks like your ability to teleport has overwritten your apparation capability. Admittedly it's a better pay off what with phoenixes able to get around wards and anti-apparation enchantments. But…"

"But my magic can still be changing," interjected Harry frowning at his hands. "I can lose more abilities."

"Or gain more powers," Ron spoke up, conjuring a treacle tart and taking a huge bite. "I wouldn't worry about it. Seems to be an even trade so far to me. It's not like you're going to have a Burning Day." He barked out a laugh. "Can you imagine bursting into flame then _bam_— baby Harry all wrinkly and chicken like."

Hermione and Harry stared at the laughing man with something like disbelief and nausea on their faces. As ludicrous as the idea was and eerily _not_ funny, the theory was not completely outside the realm of possibility.

Harry snapped his head to Hermione. "You don't think…"

"No," she snapped out, shaking her head and looking several shades lighter. "That's crazy."

Harry stared at her hard. "You don't sound completely sure."

"I guess time will tell," she finally settled with shrugging weakly.

There came a rolling laugh that halted all sound in the room. Ron stopped mid laugh and his face went slack as his features tightened. Hermione pressed her lips together in a thin line and stared at the fireplace. Harry faced the stairwell and he couldn't resist narrowing his eyes at the figure.

"_You_," said Harry in a hissing whisper.

The third alter that inhabited the confines of his mind, created in the fracturing of his psyche during his imprisonment, was unlike Ron and Hermione. The man towered a few inches above six feet and was dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a black open cloak that made him look quite dapper. His square jaw and chiseled features looked cut from stone with how handsome his face was. Black hair was combed back in a conservative style, similarly to Steve Rogers, and a cool smile appeared on his face as he pinned Harry with green eyes marred by a thick ruby red circle around each iris.

"I heard the mudblood speaking of things beyond her station and I was compelled to make an appearance."

Hermione's fists clenched at her side and Harry wrapped his fingers around her wrist to comfort her. Each alter had been born out of an aspect of his personality and crafted from his mind and memories and experience. The Dark Lord was the algorithm of pure SHIELD conditioning and Harry's thirst for vengeance and lust of destruction all with the face of his sworn enemy. A testament at how cracked he was in the head.

"Don't call her that," Ron snapped, throwing down the treacle tart.

The Dark Lord made a disparaging noise and sighed. "I do hate to see good bloodlines marred by horrid taste in mates." He looked sadly at Ron. "Your family has always been such a disappointment."

Harry looked wearily at the wizard who gazed down at him like proud father. "What do you want?"

"Harry, Harry. Please don't take that tone with me," said the Dark Lord. "I only want what's best for you. I'm one of your defenders, am I not?"

Harry gave him a dark look. "I don't have to like it."

The Dark Lord smiled politely and Harry tensed as it was aimed at him. "I only exist because of you. You made me. All those horrible things the muggles taught you, everything they forced upon you…" He tapped a finger against his temple. "I know it all and I am it all. Embrace me and realize your full potential, Harry old friend."

"As a sociopathic killer," spat Hermione with a hot glare.

He merely smiled at her indulgently, but there was a coldness lingering at the edges. "Someone take the whore from the room." He shook his head. "Close your legs and your mouth when talking to your betters."

Ron slapped his hand against the wall and stood up red with fury. "That's enough!"

The Dark Lord tilted his head and faced Ron with a regal bearing so like the royalty that his namesake always imagined himself to be.

"You would think to challenge me?" he asked. He let out a charming laugh. "I marked Harry Potter as my equal and you are not him. You don't even come close. You reek of the mudblood and it's positively turning my stomach."

They were in Harry's mind, but the tools they had weren't equal. They were only as gifted as they were created to be and limited in capacities that came from their birth. The Dark Lord would have the edge in this fight. He was everything he claimed. Everything SHIELD wanted Harry to be. Savage in a fight, heartless, and tempered with a cold efficiency for killing. It was all the qualities that Harry didn't succumb to, but were installed within him.

And Ron knew it too. He glared at the smiling wizard with pure hatred. "I can't wait for the day that Harry get's his shit straightened and figures out a way to take you out." His voice went far calmer than Harry would've imagined. "And then Hermione and I will laugh in your face as you die screaming."

The view from the windows darkened as the sky outside went black as day turned to night, and the voice the Dark Lord spoke with evoked old memories of night terrors and felt like magic's deadliest embrace. It echoed in the air and chilled the skin all at once.

"Braver men have stood against masters of magic and found their souls burned to ash." He took a step forward and Harry stood to intervene. "I am devastation given thoughts and even in this form I can unmake you. There's a revolution coming little pureblood and everyone will reap what they've sowed." His smile turned wicked. "Even you." He looked at Hermione then. "And especially you."

Harry stomped his foot and the light blazed through the window as darkness was chased away. Light poured in as the day replaced night. Harry faced the Dark Lord with a hard look of rage.

"Enough!" he roared. "You're starting to piss me off. You aren't wanted here. _Go__!_"

They watched silently as he followed the command without a word of defiance. He only shrugged gracefully and departed the common room the same way he came. There was a long moment of quiet that was broken by Hermione.

"He's getting bolder," she said quietly into the silence. "He thinks you'll merge with him."

Then he would become a mindless assassin that hungered death above all. He shook his head. "I'm proficient enough at Occlumency to keep him locked down. I have to figure out a way to erase him."

"I'm all for that idea," Ron growled staring at the stairwell like he was ready for a round two. "I really wish he didn't have You-Know-Who's personality as a baseline."

Harry felt something like a jerk and he was back on the rock overlooking the lake. Harry's eyes slide open, blank and glazed and rapidly starting to clear. That's when he noticed the hand lying on his shoulder.

The hand was attached to a blond man. He was big, built like he was used to hard labor like construction or farm work, and he was broad shouldered. His goatee was the same color and his mouth formed a kind smile as he looked down at Harry.

"Are you okay?"

Harry nodded and noted the casual wear of slacks and brown sweater the man wore. "Where'd you come from?"

He pointed in a direction that meant nothing. He slid his hands in the pockets of his pants and regarded Harry like he was worried for him. It made him uneasy.

"You never answered my question," said the man. He had an accent that Harry couldn't place. It made his voice deep and slow like he was used to speaking something much heavier sounding.

Harry shrugged. "You never really answered mine. You got a name, big guy?"

"Golmen."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "That a first name or a last name?"

"Last name," Golmen answered with a smile that was bordering on amused. "My first name's a bit off-putting at times."

Harry laughed then. Considering all the wacky names that people in the wizarding world were saddled with he'd heard it all.

"You would've fit in with kids at my school then," said Harry still chuckling a bit. "My name's Harry. Harry Potter."

"So what has you so deep in thought, Harry?"

He said this in a tone that wasn't prying. It was gentle and even as big as he was his bearing radiated patience. Harry turned away from him and stared across the lake with a firm scowl.

"You're awfully nosy for someone I don't even know," said Harry.

Golmen made an mmhmm noise and said, "I know you have a lot on your mind. I know that you face difficult choices that will decide your future."

Harry tensed and regarded him with flat eyes. "SHIELD sent you, didn't they? How'd you find me so fast?"

"A special trick," said Golmen still wearing that peaceful look. "I'm doing this as a favor to Steve Rogers. He's a good man and he asked me to find you."

"Well tell Rogers I'm okay and I'll be back soon."

Golmen didn't move. In fact he shifted closer to the stone. "I found you, but I am not a messenger." He flashed white teeth at him in a mirthful smile. "Perhaps I can help solve your dilemma. I would be honored to help Death's bane."

"What did you just call me?" asked Harry standing up and regarding the man stiffly.

Golmen looked at him. "Death's bane. Master of the Hallows, Green Phoenix of the Corps." He traced the lightning bolt scar on Harry's brow with his eyes. "Marked by thunder and forever named the Boy Who Lived."

"What was your name again?" asked Harry faintly.

His mind was reeling. There was no way that Golmen should know about him being the Boy Who Lived, never mind those thrice damned Hallows. Harry didn't have a clue about the other titles, but they sounded lofty and pretty much meant nothing to him.

"As the bringer of thunder, fate clearly wants me to be your guide," said the man standing incredibly taller as his shoulders straightened. "I'm Thor, God of Thunder, son of Odin and welder of Mjolnir."

It finally clicked where he had seen this guy before. Like Jan Pym Harry caught the man on the news. He was bigger up close. More intimidating and looking less like any god he'd ever imagined. Harry glanced at his blue jeans and met the man's eyes.

"Gods don't wear jeans."

Golmen, that didn't fit anymore, _Thor_, shook his head and looked at him askance. "Modern mortals and your waning faith. You aren't the first to question my divinity and surely not the last." He looked at him solemnly. "You may not believe in me, but I believe in you. All of Asgard knows your deeds from slaying basilisks to conquering dragons, and putting down the cursed Wraith Voldemort. There's been a place for you in Valhalla's halls since you were a babe. Your unwavering courage is praised throughout the higher planes."

Harry blinked. "Um, thanks."

He didn't know about the godhood factor, but this Thor was uncannily right on his facts. It was just too impossible to fathom that he was talking to an actual god. It was unbelievable. Instead he settled on what he understood and Harry snapped his head up to level Thor with a wide eyed stare.

"How do you know all of that?" he demanded. "You've been to my universe haven't you?"

Thor heaved out a sigh and shook his head. "Your universe is one of many the old gods withdrew from. A compact was formed when they left that made interference taboo."

"So you can look but can't touch," Harry said letting out his own disappointed sigh. "Figures."

"It is the way of such things," replied Thor simply. "For what it's worth it will be an honor to fight beside you."

Harry backed up. "Whoa, whoa. I didn't say I was joining the team. You Ultimates seem alright, and you seem to do fine without me. Kudos on that Hulk take down by the way. They rerun it almost everyday on TV."

"It was a team effort," said Thor humbly. "It may seem easier, but the shadow life isn't for you. The fifth age of man is at its peak. I was sent to Midgard to save the world from itself. You are to stand with me in preventing mankind's destruction. I will help them find faith in gods again." His stare was deep and went straight through Harry. "And through you they will believe in magic."

"The way you tell it on the news you hate the military," Harry pointed out, sidestepping the topics Thor breached. "So why are you helping SHIELD?"

"I detest military aggression against world powers and the military-industrial complex itself," he explained his tone growing heated and passionate. "Being a part of the Ultimates allows me to spread my message further, and at the same time save lives that are endangered."

Harry shook his head. "That's admirable, but it's not for me. I can't be the poster boy for magic again." He sighed. "Not for SHIELD. Not for anybody."

"A war is coming that will shake the Earth to its foundation. My father in all his wisdom has seen it." His expression grew clouded. "He's also foreseen you standing with me."

"Another prophecy," muttered Harry. "Typical. Basically I join you and we'll save the world. I don't and people die."

That wasn't much of a choice. Really he had no other option but to say yes. When shit hit the fan and he was off pretending to be some powerless civilian he would drown in guilt. He already knew what his choice was.

"Fight me," said Thor, breaking him from his thoughts and making him gape in bafflement. "If I win you will join the Ultimates."

Harry cocked his head. Guess that nixed that brief idea of Thor being a telepath. He already had been leaning toward saying yes. On one hand it was worrisome that a god wanted him to fight at his side this badly and on the other hand if they were bargaining…

"What do I get if I win?"

Thor crossed his arms and looked heavenward. "I will take you to Asgard, to my father. Odin can show you many things. It's within his power to grant you a vision of the beloved world you call home, and all the people you left behind."

Harry swallowed and thought about it for all of a second. "Done."

"We will battle till the other yields. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

Thor backed away while keeping his eyes firmly on Harry. "I am the god of thunder so don't think to take it easy on me. I can take a beating and give it right back. Don't spare me any favors for I will not do the same for you."

"Good," said Harry a wicked smile blossoming on his face. "Because I had no intentions to."

Great wreaths of fire gathered around Harry's hands. Orange and white flames howled the distance separating them and slammed into the god. The fire surged outward and then upward in a thick pillar as it hit its mark. A dark flash darted in his peripheral and Harry turned to see Thor roll from the blast radius.

The man was smoking and his clothes were charred wrecks. Yet his skin was burn-free and his hands deftly ripped at the blackened remains of his shirt. Small fires stubbornly clung to his pants and they were ripped away as quickly as the shirt had been leaving him in a previously hidden ensemble. Thor now wore dark pants and a sleeveless armored vest. Four reflective plates were woven into the vest, and along with two identical disks pinned to his belt they all glowed an ominous electric blue.

Harry's eyes were drawn to the very heavy and very dangerous looking hybrid hammer-axe at Thor's side. The head was about three feet long. One side was wide and flat like a regular hammer. The other side was fashioned into a gleaming blade. The metal was a strange color that reflected the light oddly and looked unearthly.

"Finally," said Thor, his tone an approving rolling baritone. "A worthy opponent."

The roaring thunder and lightning overhead was all the warning that Harry got before the waiting storm was unleashed. Harry teleported in a burst of flame as lightning slammed into the space he once occupied. Thor was flying toward his location before he fully materialized. He pulled the hammer back and the blow passed directly through the wizard. The illusion vanished and Thor let out a laugh.

"My wretched brother Loki is a trickster," said Thor turning around and searching for the wizard. "Such methods won't always work."

Harry watched the god under a disillusionment charm. Something nagged at his thoughts as he scrutinized his opponent. He pulled at the persistent thread and a package of information executed. Stats unloaded in his head courtesy of Weapon X.

_Weapon—Mjolnir. MWC-18. Indestructible, capable of teleportation across space and between local dimensions, control and manipulation of weather on a wide scale. Threat level: High._

In other words, don't get hit. The hammer was just as dangerous as it looked. He was confident he could survive a blow from it, but whether he would immediately get back up was another story.

Harry dodged the next blow as Thor finally saw through the charm's glamour, still the information continued to stream into his consciousness. The problem was Thor was just as fast if not faster so he had to make his movements as unpredictable as possible. He ducked out of range by delivering a snap kick to the god's chin. He recovered from the hit quicker than expected, and Harry couldn't evade the fist to his temple. It took him off his feet and backward over a dozen meters. He saw stars as he landed and skidded through dirt leaving a deep trench in his wake.

He recovered quickly and rolled forward to hop up on the balls of his heels. Harry cupped his hands around his mouth and spoke a string of harsh sounding words in a guttural foreign language that sounded like a bastardized German crossed with Arabic.

The ground shuddered around Thor and he uttered a noise of surprise as he found himself sinking into the earth. Thor's hammer was moving as Harry let loose a viridian bolt of energy at his immovable target. The spell was deflected by Mjolnir with ease, and there was a groan as the earth struggled to swallow its victim. Thor let loose a resounding roar and flew from the quicksand like a bird freed of its cage.

He hovered above the earth with his eyes shining a brilliant white. Angry dark clouds rolled in and thunder cracked across the sky sounding like the moon splintering to its core. Wind blew in from the North cold as the Arctic and then from the sky rained a shower of hail, sharp as daggers and as fast as bullets.

Harry's arm moved instinctively bringing up a dome shaped shield around him with a snap. Old habits made him flinch reflexively as the knife-like projectiles rebounded two inches away from his face. Concentric circles of pale blue light spread out from the points of impact as the hail of ice hit failed against the magical defense.

Waving his arms in a dismissive gesture, Harry banished the raining hail back to its caster. Thor suddenly found himself under attack by countless wickedly sharp shards of ice. Taking a note from a sorcerer from another universe Harry stomped his foot hard against the ground. From the earth erupted a roaring spray of crystalline molten lava.

Thor dismissed the hail storm only to narrowly dodge the torrent of lava that blasted through the air. He flew out of the way and found the lava tracking his flight path. At the same time Harry sent his mind searching through useful spells that would disable the god.

That damn hammer was dangerous, but the belt the thunderer wore was even more worrisome. He pulled at the information – there, Thor's belt was designated a _MWC-19. Grants class 50 superhuman strength, flight, minor psychic abilities, increased durability and stamina. Threat level: Very High._

Thor was already strong, but the belt made him stronger.

Harry dug too deep into the store of knowledge and couldn't escape the bolt of lightning that struck the ground less than four centimeters away from his feet. The ground exploded and splintered and Harry was sent rocketing backward and into the lake. He sank deep beneath the restless waves till his vision was murky and his lungs burned. Harry moved his hands around his head conjuring a bubblehead charm that formed with a pop of displaced oxygen and water. He took a deep gasp of breath.

He closed his eyes briefly to center himself and then began murmuring an old spell he picked up from one of the books left to him in Dumbledore's will. At the lake's surface water began bubbling like it was boiling. Steam billowed up from the waves and then a gigantic arm made completely of water towered upward from the loch. Thor narrowed his eyes at the massive water construct as its gigantic fingers curled into a fist. The construct reared back and aimed its colossal fist at the god.

Thor wasn't one to back down and met the punch with his own. The resounding boom shook the air and cracked the ground forming deep fissures in the earth. Miles away terrified people fell to their knees as the ground trembled and quaked as if it would never stop.

Ground and dirt compress. Liquids don't. The punch obliterated the construct and Thor went shooting backward as the resulting force of the collision counteracted his forward momentum. Harry burst from the depths of the lake and landed on the ground, facing the thunder god who was picking himself up from the crater his landing caused. He smirked at the recovering deity.

Blue eyes twinkled in amusement and Harry's smirk was returned. Each attack had been returned strike for strike. This was one fight neither planned on losing. Thor was a tough sonofabitch. Harry knew that going into the fight, but expecting it and seeing it was two different things. Harry took off the kid's gloves – Time to ante up.

"You're a fine opponent," said Thor graciously. "But the end is nigh. I will make your defeat swift."

Harry cocked his head. "Funny. I was going to say the same to you."

They shared a smirk and the ground exploded. Thousands of crimson snakes erupted from the earth each as wide as a man's torso and twelve feet long. Hissing and spitting they converged on Thor just as Harry snapped his fingers and uttered a curse in old Latin. Shadows winded away from their source and transformed into hulking beasts that resembled trolls but had skin like tar and soulless blank eyes.

Thor crushed the snakes beneath the heels of his boots and Mjolnir hummed through the air as it bashed through the pair of shadow creatures' skulls, sending clear goo all over the ground. They provided enough distraction that Thor didn't see the jet of superheated plasma until it slammed into his chest. Through the haze of pain his world turned into, the god had enough sense to throw himself to the ground to avoid the next shots that flew over his head and impacted the tree line of the forest.

Harry was in the middle of casting a volley of dark spells when Thor blurred forward, with a remarkable speed that he'd previously hadn't used. Moving on instinct alone at seeing the god appear in close combat range, Harry caught Thor in the nose with the back of his elbow and spun out of the move to provide distance. He wasn't fast enough, and Mjolnir cracked across his shoulder instead of somewhere vital like his _head_. Immediately his entire left arm went numb. Harry almost fell to his knees in pain, but wasn't given the chance as he was lifted off his feet in a goddamn tornado.

His body went battering around like a ragdoll in the inner cone of the twister. Wind howled its approval as a storm like no other waged through the countryside as Thor manipulated the weather. Harry gave a scream of pure anger and lashed out without spell or focus only pure magic. Pylons of white light blasted from his body like he was a nuclear bomb, and ripped apart the tornado till it was nothing.

He fell to the ground in a low crouch and was casting before he could catch his breath. He finished by raising his arm into air and closing his hand in a tight fist. From the thick storm clouds gliding through the air on tattered black cloaks Dementors came to pass. Harry sent every dark and gloomy thought he'd ever had into their creation and set them loose on the god without mercy.

"Take him down!" Harry shouted over the din of the storm.

A chill settled over the area as half a dozen Dementors launched themselves at the god. Thor surveyed the wraith creatures with something akin to pity in his eyes. Without a trace of worry or fear that emanated from the creatures like webs of despair, Thor raised his hammer high above him and light shone from within the metal like a miniature sun all bright and radiant.

The Dementors circled around the thunder god, but kept their distance as the hammer's light acted as sort of a deterrent against advancing forward. Instead they increased their influence of desolation and a strange call sang on the back of the wind. Its notes of hopelessness, forlorn sadness and neverending anguish even miles away weakened the stoutest heart. People clutched at their chest as their darkest memories brought them to tears and sent the weak of spirit into raving fits.

"Foul creatures of decay, your snare of misery I will tear asunder," said Thor, his voice as resolute and booming as the cracking thunder. _"By Odin's light!"_

Lightning split the sky and struck the hammer resulting in a brilliant flare of white light and eardrum shattering sound of thunder. Harry threw up his hands to shield his eyes as the equivalent of a supernova went off. The searing white light went in all directions and the Dementors shrieked in agony as the beams of light impaled their cloaked bodies and eviscerated them in half. The pieces flew off in different directions, their dying screams reverberating shrilly in the air.

Thor's boots skimmed the ground as he soared forward and Harry rushed in with superhuman speed. Harry feigned left instead of throwing a punch and grabbed the arm that had been cocked back to deliver a devastating blow. Thor was thrown off balance as Harry held his arm in a vice grip. Harry stepped in and locked the joint, reversing the appendage in a swift move that brought it behind his back.

Harry slammed his knee into the small softness of Thor's back and as he left out a whoosh of air, the foot whipped out again at his left wrist. The surprise move sent Mjolnir sailing from Thor's hand.

"You're tough but you aren't unbreakable," said Harry firmly, hyperextending the arm in his grip.

He had to apply a ton of more pressure than he would for a normal human, but there was a satisfying pop and Thor grunted as he held back a pained shout. Harry followed through with a punch to both kidneys tagged with a savage roundhouse kick to the back of his head. Thor stumbled to the ground and took the fall in a roll. He kicked away the hand glowing with disastrous ruby light with a foot. Thor came up with Mjolnir back in hand, stepped in and swung _hard_.

Harry's entire world went white as blinding pain screamed through body. Thor took advantage of his dropped guard and buried his fist in the wizard's exposed abdomen and hammered in three more punches in a swift combination breaking ribs with efficient blows. Harry doubled over and barely avoided the knee aimed at his solar plexus by dropping to the ground in a roll. It was sloppy but he was able to blindly kick and catch Thor in the kneecap. He didn't dislocate the joint, but it sent the bigger man staggering back. It was enough to buy Harry time as he clutched at his torso wincing as his healing factor knitted his ribs back together to keep him in the fight.

Thor's head snapped up a scowl on his face and wrathful power shining in his eyes. The storm grew impossibly more severe and powerful. The lake waters swirled furiously against the shore as rain and wind and burst of hail brewed a violent maelstrom.

Harry held his stance and smiled mirthlessly as he panted to catch his breath. "Dramatic much?"

"We are just getting started."

Harry blurred out of sight.

Thor spun around only to see Harry standing less than a meter away. The wizard grinned and brought his hands together in a mighty clap. Sheer concussive force of gold light blasted through the air. Thor brought his arms up in an X before his chest and the crackling energy hit him head on. Instead of atomizing him, as it was designed to do, it only sent the god toppling over and skidding across the ground like he had been hit by a Mack truck.

Thor sat up in the deep trench gouged in the earth, wiping at the bloody gash across his left cheek. "Good one."

The man leveled his hammer at the wizard and deadly shards of ice and lightning as thick as a tree trunk split the air. At the same time lightning fell from the sky striking the earth. Harry flicked his fingers and the attack launched by Mjolnir was met by a shimmering shield adorned by a roaring lion. He looked up just as lightning roared from the heavens and struck him head on. His scream of pain was horrible as powerful waves of energy washed over him. Another strike joined the first, forming a more powerful force and then another supercharging the attack.

There was a thunderous boom and the entire area in a quarter mile radius went up in a spectacular explosion. Earth and soil fell in a spray and mixed with the raging storm making it even harder to see. Thor peered into the rapidly clearing dust cloud.

"There's perks to being a super soldier," said Harry, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

He was at Thor's right side and a chuckle made him turn to the left. Another copy of Harry was at his other side, identical right down to their shared cuts and blood on his face. Both Harry's made a series of complex motions with their fingers and the falling rain in a circle around the god transfigured into liquid nitrogen. The god lifted his hammer and opened his mouth just as the ice solidified and trapped him in a block of ice. Harry winked at his copy and he faded away with a jaunty wave.

Black flames coated Harry's hand and he laid it on the god's ice covered chest. At point blank rage there was no way that the god could beat the full brunt of this spell. A god wouldn't die from having his organs superheated, but it sure as hell would bring him to his knees. Harry opened his mouth to finish the spell and the ground rumbled and heaved and the statue exploded.

In a shower of ice Thor soared free into the air. There was an awesome spectacle that followed as Thor unleashed the terrible powers of the elements and Harry combated it with magic. The air was alive with flashing lightning, booming thunder, and multicolored explosions of light and the thick smell of burned ozone. Thor hit Harry with a semi twister backed by lightning that left Harry's torso a smoky mess of ruined flesh that was already healing. A curse that should have burned a hole clean through Thor's sternum merely singed his skin and made him cough thickly.

"_Trunco Lumen!"_

Harry snapped out the curse and a dozen meter wide balls of crimson energy surrounded the god. They quickly darted in and Thor contemptuously batted away the first trio. The next two met the blunt end of his hammer and he swung wide at the next three, cleaving them cleanly into nothing. The wide swing left a hole in his guard that the swirling energy globes ruthlessly exploited. They slammed into him and he gave a pained cry as magic raced up and down his spine like acid poured directly onto his nerves.

Thor only had a split second to recover before Harry was whirling on him. Blood from his bleeding palms splashed through the air and instead of falling toward the ground each drop hovered in the air and then at once blew up. Detonation after detonation kept the god busy as the blood burned the ground where it fell and sizzled against his skin like acid.

Harry disappeared beneath the spray. The storm washed away the blood before it could do real damage to him and Thor peered through the storm for his adversary. Harry stepped out of Thor's shadow and grinned at the surprised god with bloodied teeth.

Silver light leaped from his fingers in a blinding arch. Thor was too close to dodge and the searing bolt of magical energy lit up the sky and Thor let out a scream as the deadly energy danced over his body and sent him catapulting away till Harry lost sight of him within the black thunderclouds.

Harry tensed and kept his stance as he stared up through the rain. He would be ready for the god. If Harry could get him away from that hammer then his chances at winning this thing would rise significantly. That thing had a metaphysical weapon class designation high enough to easily beat Voldemort into a bloody pulp, horcruxes or no horcruxes.

Light flashed in the clouds and Harry slid into a tighter stance as Thor descended. His hammer was raised and blazed blue-white like the lightning that embraced him in an aura of awe inspiring power. The power disks attached to his armor channeled the building power and they were filled to capacity and lit up almost to overload.

Weapon X programming screamed at him at the apparent class six power up and what that meant. Harry cast the strongest shield charm he knew and his arms rose as electricity slammed at him from all sides at once. The area lit up with white-hot light as sheets of lightning fell from the sky and battered into the shield. Countless tendrils of flashing light came from the _ground_ as Thor pulled lightning from the air and the earth itself to attack Harry in a blinding display that was surely seen from space.

Harry winced at the strain, knees buckling as exertion caught up to him. The shield was lit a constant burning blue as the storm above and the earth was used against the wizard. Thor's roar was heard above the clap of thunder and the outpour increased as the powerful waves of electrical force finally overcame his defense.

Harry screamed as the lightning cascaded over his body and the electrical attack dumped its full potential into his body. His internal organs went into spasms as his nervous system overloaded at the influx of energy. He screamed. Oh how he screamed as pain took over his mind, body and soul. He blacked in and out of consciousness as his healing factor went into full blown overdrive to repair the internal damage.

"Yield." Thor's voice penetrated his fog of pain. "It's folly to continue as you have clearly been beaten."

Through blurred vision and gritted teeth Harry spoke softly yet determined. "No."

He didn't want to give up the chance to see his friends. Even if they couldn't see him it would be alright. He just needed to know they were okay. Thor was Old World. Their word was true and their bond. He might have mercy and take him to Asgard anyway, or he might not… Harry clenched his fists and dug deep for something, _anything_ left to continue.

A song trilled just beyond his hearing growing louder as he concentrated. He knew that song. It roused his heart and filled his veins with courage. The phoenix song was just as miraculous and wonderful as the first time he heard it years ago. It soothed his aches and Harry opened his eyes. Thor's face filled with shock as eyes swirling with dancing flames glared at him.

Harry rose to his feet as flames licked across his hands and he stared at the god. "I. Will. Not. Yeild."

Fire engulfed the wizard in a blaze of red-orange, white flames. Thor took a step back as Harry looked at him with fire burning in his eyes. The aura of flames around Harry suddenly blazed outward in an explosive and radiating display. Harry stood within the column of fire unharmed and his face was fixed into a completely foreign expression of supremacy. He lifted his arms and the fire surged in a brilliant emanating halo that took the shape of a fiery bird-form.

"If you want me to quit," Harry spoke slowly, his voice dropped an octave lower as scorching power filled him to the brim. "_Come make me_."

Thor stared at the firebird surrounding Harry with its expanded wings in stunned surprise, wonder and concern. "I yield."

Harry stared at Thor and struggled to rein in the power that only wanted to strike out and destroy. _"What?"_

"This battle is yours," said Thor, turning away from the magnificent sight. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked around the battlefield. "If we were to continue our fight will destroy this land and nothing would ever grow here again. That's not my wish and would do no one any good."

A sigh left Harry as he finally relaxed. He wiped the trickle of blood away from his brow before it dripped into his eyes. The firebird faded away as the flames dissipated without Harry's thirst for vengeance to fuel the power of the phoenix.

He surveyed Thor critically, taking in the smile with calculating eyes. "You already knew I was going to say yes, didn't you? You know I'm going to join the Ultimates."

"Of course," said Thor simply.

Harry shook his head feeling tongue-tied. "How?"

Thor smiled enigmatically. "I'm a god."

Harry let out a loud exhale completely flabbergasted. "Then why? Why go through all this?"

"If you can stand against me without succumbing to death then you will be a worthy ally to have in the end of days."

"A test then?" asked Harry, rolling his eyes. _Of course._ "Story of my life."

Thor stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder with his big hand. "You are a fierce warrior. Haward I name you, which means high defender in the tongue of my people." Even with the blood on his face he still looked genuinely happy. "We will be great protectors to this world. Our enemies will fear our combined might and tremble."

"Because your father prophesized it?" Harry asked skeptically.

Thor nodded. "He's wise as he is powerful and Odin is powerful indeed." He raised both eyebrows and stared at Harry. "I see the fading doubt as to my godhood."

Harry shrugged, rubbing at his bicep to get complete feeling back to his arm. "Even if you aren't _the_ Thor. I've never seen anyone else chuck lightning like that. Who am I to doubt you?"

Thor glanced into the distance where a swarm of aircrafts were advancing through the now clear sky. He frowned at the black jets and his expression was of intense dislike.

"Nick Fury and his little soldiers approach."

Thor said this like it left a bad taste in his mouth. Harry stared around the battlefield and winced at the wanton destruction. The lake was half dry, a majority of the trees of the forest were toppled over by the storm and the grass was scorched so badly that it actually looked reasonably better than the crater holes that dotted the grounds.

"I guess once I give him my answer, he'll officially be my boss." Harry groaned partly at the thought and also at the headache pounding between his eyes. "I'm going to get docked for this, I know it."

Thor laughed as they watched the SHIELD transports land and turned to the wizard. "Welcome to the Ultimates."

* * *

This chapter was long coming. It was mostly completed months and months ago, but due to circumstances I was forced to redo it from scratch and there's nothing more daunting than rewriting over 21.6kw. So I finally sat down and decided to hammer it out or I would never get it done. Here's the finished product and I hope it's well received. I have no pairings in mind for Harry. That's not to say it won't happen, but I haven't really given it much thought as to who would make a good fit.


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